Red Handed
by T. A. Aberforth
Summary: Blaine's been taken to Alien Investigation and Removal training camp, where only the strong survive. But dating your instructors is strictly prohibited. Even when he happens to be Kurt Hummel, the drop-dead gorgeous agent that brought you here. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- I know I should be updating my other stories, not creating a new one. I have SIX stories in progress. I don't need to write this. And yet I'm doing it anyways.**

**Summary: Blaine Anderson has been trying to win his family back over after he comes out to them, because they think that being gay is all AIDS and STDs. But when a simple party in the woods turns into an all-out battle with the most ferocious aliens Blaine has never seen, he's brought home in what appears to be a Freshly Hooked Up state. Hello, gay camp.**

**Except, what Blaine's parents don't know is that he's just been recruited to join the elite Alien Investigation and Removal agency, or AIR, where he'll learn to fight dirty, track hard, and destroy the enemy. It'll be rigorous and dangerous, and the fact that one of his instructors is Kurt Hummel- the drop-dead gorgeous agent he met in the woods that night- doesn't make things any easier. Especially when dating him is totally against the rules. **

**Warnings: Drug use, graphic violence, alien existence, swearing, derogatory names, homophobia, ninja!Kurt.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Red Handed by Gena Showalter (whish is a really awesome book, you should read it if you haven't already).**

**Blaine's POV**

**Lima, Ohio.**

**Sometime in the near future...**

This party sucked.

Most high school parties did, but this one seemed to suck in particular. The music was loud enough for me to forget why I was there, and the more confidents danced around a large bonfire, freeing themselves. There was a haze of smoke that smelled like a mix of tobacco, pot, and 'Snow Angels' or Onadyn, a deoxygenating drug meant for the aliens who'd invaded our planet about 70 years ago. Humans abused it as well, seeing as the lack of oxygen to their brains made them fly.

Like, really fly.

It made you feel like you were soaring through the clouds at breathtaking speeds, untouchable. If it didn't kill you first. I was under no circumstances supposed to be here anyways, I was grounded. But my grounds for punishment had been something unnecessary, something stupid.

I was gay.

Being grounded by my very liberal, traditional, Catholic parents wasn't going to make me straight. Neither was setting me up girls to date. The girls were perfectly nice and would make someone a wonderful wife one day. Just not me.

Because I was gay.

Why couldn't they just accept me for what I was? I accepted them, my mother in all her self-hatred, who got a nose job or a face lift of some other type of plastic surgery every other weekend. I accepted my dad, who played golf religiously, had affairs, and never spent time with his family. But they couldn't accept the fact that I was gay.

I loved them, but my parents made me sick.

So while I been mulling over their irrational hatred, Wes had texted me. 'Party in the Weaving Woods 10:00,'He'd said. 'Are you in?'

'Grounded.' I'd told him ruefully.

'There's a tree right next to your window. Sneak out, dude.' I'd snorted over the stereotypical teenage boy use of the word dude, but pondered it nonetheless. I wasn't too keen on sneaking out the window, I've seen _Polly_ and it ended less than well for her. But at the same time, I wanted to show my parents exactly how much I thought about their so called grounding.

_Flashback_

_It was a bright, sunny day. I was waiting for my parents nervously. This was the day, I was finally coming out. I'd known I was gay since I was 13 and gotten a hard-on from Neil Patrick Harris while watching How I Met Your Mother. But now I was entering my junior year of High School, and while every jock knew I was gay, my parents did not. It was definitely time to tell them. I'd held hands with my first boyfriend, a sweet guy named Erik Stone, and waited. _

_When my dad pulled up in his brown SUV, I'd winced, thinking my mother was going to pick me up. I still needed to come out thought, so I walked up to the car and tapped on the window, still holding Erik's hand. He'd rolled it down, chatting on his Bluetooth with a divorce client, and I'd motioned for him to stop talking and pay attention to me for 5 seconds, goddamnit._

"_What?" He'd barked, looking annoyed._

_I'd taken a deep breath. "Dad, this is Erik. My boyfriend."_

_After a few seconds of silence, filled with his head whipping back and forth to look at me, Erik, and our intertwined hands, he laughed. "This is a joke, right? My son isn't some kind of fag."_

"_Dad... I'm gay."_

"_No you're not!" He shouted, sounding angry. "I didn't raise and clothe a perfectly good son for 16 years to have him turn out to be gay! No son of mine is going to be a nasty fag that takes it up the ass!" Parents were beginning to stare, and Dad just flipped them off, driving away to leave me standing on the sidewalk to walk home._

_End Flashback_

Erik and I had broken up a few days later, but my father's words had stung. So I'd tried to be defiant. I'd hooked up with every male I could find until I was a walking hickey. Not caring about STDs, protection, or AIDS. No strings attached, just blowjobs and handjobs and sex anywhere I could get it. My parents shut me out even more, and I became a desperate, needy, and lonely mess, practically humping anything with a dick that moved. Then Erik, who I've remained good friends with, had a HIV scare. He was fine, but it opened my eyes that I needed to be careful.

"Blaine? Blaaaaine? Anybody home?" Erik waved a hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my reverie.

"Oh! Sorry. I zoned out for a second." I said apologetically. "This party sucks, and I blame Wes for inviting me."

"He invited everyone and didn't show up." Erik rolled his eyes, but by the way he was swaying on the spot and the smell of smoke on his designer clothes, he'd been smoking a Snow Angel. "We'll find him tomorrow with torches and pitchforks. David was really, really, really pissed."

"David's always pissed." I muttered, taking a swig of the beer I'd forgotten I had.

"It's worse than normal, though. He was really counting on Wes tonight. Wanted to tell him something." He clapped me on the shoulder, grinning broadly. "And you're definitely not going to think this party sucks when you see who came."

"Who? If it's Thad, he still owes me $70." I muttered. I tried to drink from the beer again, but it was empty and I threw it to the ground, disappointed.

"No, I might have seen him though... anyways, it's Finn Hudson." He pointed a shaky finger in the direction of the bonfire and I frowned.

"Why would Finn Hudson be here and why would I care? He graduated about a year ago." Finn had been one of the jocks who'd bullied me, although not as intensely as some of the others had. He'd more or less gone along with it to be accepted.

"You're going to care when you see who he brought with him." Erik wobbled on his feet and frowned. "Damn shoes."

_Yeah, it's your shoes and not the lack of oxygen to your brain. _I thought. "Who is it?"

"Kurt Hummel. There. Yummy." He pointed, my eyes followed...

And my heart stopped.

Kurt Hummel was the most breathtaking boy I'd ever seen. His brown hair was somehow perfectly coiffed and yet messy at the same time, but seemed to have strands of pure gold entwined. His eyes sparkled in the firelight, looking beautifully and absolutely blue. His face was flawless. He was tall-ish, had muscles that were defined yet lean, and his dark clothes hugged his body in all the right ways. He was...

"Totally gorgeous, right?" Erik nudged my shoulder. "You gonna hit that?"

"I don't do random hookups anymore, Erik." I said, still staring at Kurt who was staring into the fire. It illuminated his face and danced in his eyes. "He's here with Finn, though? I didn't know he played for our team."

"Still doesn't." Erik sounded wistful. "Kurt's his stepbrother. I heard he's crazy overprotective of him, even though Kurt's, like, three months older." He let out a sigh, pulling a vial of liquid from his pocket. It was Breathless, the liquid form of Onadyn. Druggies always found a way to hide their stash. He drained half and offered the rest to me. "Want some?"

"I don't want to get stoned." I said.

"It'll help you forget." He swirled the Breathless under my nose temptingly, and for a second I was tempted to join him, to forget about my parents and my life for one little night. But I'd stayed clean throughout all of high school. I didn't want to screw that up now. "Just one little sip."

"No thanks, Erik." I stepped away. He shrugged and gulped the rest. After a few seconds, his eyes glazed over and he let out a strangled gasp for air, his lips beginning to tint blue. I grabbed his arm and led him over to an empty patch of grass. "C'mon. Nighty-night time." I helped him to lie down and straightened his clothes. There was nothing else I could really do to help Erik. He'd fly all night.

"Take your friend and go home." A high-pitched, yet attractive voice sounded. I turned to see none other than Kurt Hummel standing above me. I hadn't even heard him approach.

Up close, he was just as beautiful. But his eyes... from far away they'd looked pure blue, but now... they changed colors about every two seconds, from blue to green to grey and every color in between. They were still stunning, but now I couldn't help but wonder if he was an alien.

No chance.

Aliens were easy to identify, and other than his eyes Kurt looked completely human. Some aliens glowed like neon signs, oozed slime, had multiple arms, ect.

"Hello to you, too." I grinned, standing up.

"Take your friend and go home." He repeated in that same high, soprano voice that was still beautiful.

"What's it to you?" I asked, leaning against a nearby tree and studying Kurt's face.

"There's going to be some trouble tonight, with the Outers. You don't want to be here to see it." He replied easily.

"Who said I don't? I like an adventure as much as the next guy. But what make you say Outers cause trouble? There hasn't been a reported incident since 2007." Outers rarely caused trouble. They were too afraid of AIR.

"The key word there being reported."

"So?"

"So maybe I spotted a few aliens when I hiked through the forest." Kurt said through clenched teeth.

"Are you an Outer hater or something?" I asked, getting defensive. Outers were a part of the everyday world, they went to our schools and worked amoung us. I had nothing against them, but it seemed to me that if the world could pass a law on alien peace, they could find time to pass one on gay marriage.

"You seem like a nice guy, and I don't want you to get hurt." An eerie howl sounded far away and Kurt swore quietly, extracting a small gun from his belt. I backed away, palms in the air. "Whoa! What do you think you're doing with that?"

Another howl split the air, this one closer and followed by several others, each one more animalistic than the last. I shivered in fear. Wolves were supposed to be extinct in Ohio, but it would be just my luck that the last of them would find their way to me. I was way too awesome to die like that.

"I told you to leave. You just had to be difficult and stay. Now you're going to pay for that." Kurt spat at me angrily and twisted the dial on the side of the gun.

Howls were now filling the air, all blending into one low, menacing growl. I lost focus on Kurt's gun and stared into the trees, knowing these weren't wolves.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, my voice giving way to my fear.

"It's death." He replied bleakly. "And it's too late to avoid it now."

**A/N2- Cliffhanger! Review would make me flail with stupid happiness and they also make my fingers move faster on the keyboard.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: Drug use, graphic violence, alien existence, extremely graphic swearing (courtesy of Kurt), derogatory names, ninja!Kurt.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Red Handed by Gena Showalter.**

**A/N- Enjoy! **

**Blaine's POV**

Within seconds, they filled the clearing. Huge, wrinkled, flesh like creatures that bounded on all fours across the clearing, descending on the unconscious like prey. The crowd in front of the fire began to scream and scatter from the aliens. I gaped at them, fascinated and repulsed and terrified for my life all at the same time. There were at least 20 in this clearing alone, and I could hear more coming. I turned to Kurt. "What the hell are those?"

"Sybilins." He ground out. I'd never heard the word before, or dealt with anything even remotely close to this. Kurt aimed his gun and fired at one. Bright red beams, hot as the firelight, lit up the night and slammed into a 'Sybilin.'

It turned into ash immediately.

"Holy shit." The words slipped out of my mouth, and Kurt grinned at me momentarily. I gazed at him in wonder. "Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare." He responded, firing again. "Now get out of here and take your friend with you."

One Sybilin launched itself through the air, landing on top of an unconscious girl. It lowered its lips to hers, and then-

Light flashed between them. The girl spasmed harshly, looking as if something was being drawn from deep inside her. Without thinking. I picked out a small but heavy rock and threw it at the Sybilin. It hit it square in the temple, and it looked up at me with eyes the color of glowing blood, enraged.

"What the hell? I told you to leave!" Kurt shouted, still shooting and having withdrawn a knife from his belt. "Now you made the bitch mad!"

"What are they doing?"

"They suck the water out of you through your mouth until you're completely dry and dead. They fucking multiply and there isn't shit we can do but kill. Now go before you're next!"

"I'm not a coward!" I yelled back, exasperated. The one I'd thrown the rock at bounded towards me, getting closer by the second, and then Finn Hudson stepped in my path, cutting its throat neatly. Yellow blood spurted out and it fell to the ground, dead. I gaped at him, but he just moved on, murder in his eyes. Were they trained for this? Then it hit me. Kurt and Finn were part of AIR, or Alien Investigation and Removal. The stuff from old movies and legends. Like the military or FBI, but deadlier. A thousand times more lethal.

"Go! This isn't a game."

"Oh really?" I said drily, picking up another rock. I turned to the aliens, adding sarcastically, "You mean I don't get a prize if I'm still alive in the morning?"

Kurt glared at me, and I could tell he was pissed off. If the Sybilins didn't kill me, he sure would to make me get out of the way. "Shit's about to get real."

"No kidding." I said, gripping my rocks tightly.

"This isn't working. They're still multiplying!" Kurt resheathed his gun and pulled out another knife, this one with a jagged edge. Springing forward, he pinned one and stabbed it through the throat. He looked tiny, but apparently Kurt was highly trained for situations like this. Other than the constant swearing, the boy was a total BAMF and hadn't lost his cool once. "Fuck!"

I was scared as all hell, but I wasn't about to leave. I wasn't a coward. I faced my problems and didn't run from them like my dad did, it was one of the reasons I resented him so much. Besides, Erik was still passed out at my feet. If I left him, he'd be alien food. I glanced up to see another one bending over a kid, probably a freshman by the looks of him. My paternal instincts kicked in, and I found myself running towards them, slamming my fist into its head.

_OW._

Son of a bitch. That hurt.

As I gripped my bleeding hand and thought about how it never looked like that in the movies, the Sybilin had moving from the freshmen to loom over me. I thought I distantly heard Kurt yell. Its face lowered to mine. I struggled to fight, but it's hairless, wrinkled legs pinned mine to the half-frozen ground and its claws caught my arms. Finally, its lips touched mine and its funnel-tongue pried open my mouth, sucking over and over again.

I gagged.

It was honestly the most disgusting experience of my life, and I'd made out with some pretty gross boys before. Spots began blinking in front of my eyes. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see.

I knew I was going to die.

That was _not _going to happen. Not now. Not in the woods where no one would ever find my dehydrated body frozen to the rocks and twigs covering the ground.

But what terrified me the most was that I could feel myself weakening, my heartbeat slowed, and my throat was so dry. It sucked, over and over.

All that didn't stop my brain from thinking out the best solution to this. The Sybilin had pinned my arms, but not my legs. I worked up one in between us and kicked with my remaining strength (which I didn't know I had). It flew backwards off of me, prying our lips apart with a loud suction noise, and hit the ground with a loud snap. I leapt after and began punching ever inch I could get my hands on. Screw the bruises. It tried to kill me. After about 15 hits, hands gently pulled me off, laying me on the ground. "It's dead." Kurt whispered.

I sat up, desperately clutching at my throat. It was on fire, burning a hole to tell me that I needed water **now.** Like magic, Kurt handed me a canteen. "Drink." I did so eagerly, gulping down what turned out not to be water, but iced tea, cold and sweet and delicious and complete heaven. No drop was left by the time I handed it back to him. He pocketed it with a smirk and held out his hand.

"It-it-it violated me." I half-whispered, taking his offered hand and standing.

Kurt looked at me without sympathy. "I told you to leave. I tried to get to you sooner, sorry."

"Is it over?" I found myself asking stupidly. "Are they dead?"

"Do you see any more damn water-suckers still kicking?" He smirked a bit, and then frowned. "Our back-up never arrived. We heard there was going to be some Outer trouble in the woods tonight, but the team on standby never came."

"We?"

"Me and Finn." He jerked his chin towards the tall, slightly awkward boy. He hadn't seemed so awkward in battle, but now, cleaning up the clearing of Sybilin bodies, he was a pile of oversized limbs.

"Why are you telling me all of this? Isn't it classified AIR information or something?"

"You're smarter than you look." Kurt sounded both pleased and troubled by his revelation.

"Who else could kick that much alien ass?" I started to walk back to check on Erik, but Kurt grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "I never got your name."

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson." I stupidly offered my hand, but he grasped it smoothly and kissed the back.

"Kurt Hummel."

"I know." _Stupid, stupid, stupid boy. Open mouth, insert foot times three. _I mentally chided myself.

"Really?" He didn't question further, instead turning to his brother. I hadn't seen him approaching. I began to walk away, but in the quiet clearing I heard every word of their argument.

"Who is this?"

"He's nobody."

"He's not nobody. He fought off a Sybilin, completely untrained, _after_ it had begun to feed."

"It's amazing, I know. He's smart, too. He knows we're AIR."

"_What?"_

"I didn't tell him! It wouldn't be that hard to figure out that we're trained, Finn. We have matching weapons. Standard issue guns."

"What are we going to do about him? He knows too much. He's seen too much."

"We could recruit him."

"That is the craziest shit you have ever said, Kurt. And I've heard you say some pretty crazy shit before."

"He knows too much, but we're not going to kill him. We aren't berserkers."

"Boss isn't going to like this."

"I could convince him. You know he's just a big softie."

"Does he even get a say in this?"

"You're the dumbass who left the memory-wipe chips at base! Unless you wanna haul Blaine's ass there, find out where the fuck he lives with a background check, haul his ass back home, make up a stupid ass lie for his parents, and haul our fucking asses back to base _again,_ we're fucking recruiting the bitch."

"No need for language. You swear like a sailor."

"Shut your fucking bitch-ass mouth, Finn. Or I'll shove your cock so far up your own ass that you'll be picking pubic hairs out of your teeth for a month."

"...Why do you want this guy so much?"

"He has good potential."

"My left ass-cheek has more potential than that douche." Ouch. That stung, unless Finn's left ass-cheek was really awesome.

"Besides, I sort of like him. He's cute, in a dorky, Star Wars fetish kind of way." My grin returned to my face.

At least, until Finn decided to pick me up, firefighter-style, and toss me over his shoulder so that all I could see was **ASS.** I poked at his left cheek, feeling little potential there.

"Dude! Don't go there, that's faggy." Finn declared. I heard a snarl from Kurt and an order to put me down. Once I was settled on my feet, Kurt leapt on his unsuspecting stepbrother, pulling out his knife and putting it at Finn's throat. "What the fuck did I tell you about using that word?"

"Kurt! Dude, I'm sorry. I forgot. It won't happen again." Finn held up his hands defensively. Kurt climbed off of his chest and sheathed his knife. Finn stood back up and began walking me into the woods, following Kurt.

"So... what if I don't want to be in AIR?" I asked conversationally.

"Too fucking bad. It's this or a memory wipe, which would you prefer? Of course, our dumbass scientists fucked up when the made the new chips, so there's a chance you won't remember your last name, let alone AIR." Kurt replied, not looking in my direction. His hips swayed seductively in front of me and I couldn't help staring.

"I think I'll take AIR."

"Good to know."

"So where are we going?"

"Everywhere and nowhere."

I snorted cryptically. "Hell?"

"Some would say that, yes." Kurt said seriously.

_Shit. What the hell did you get us into? _I asked my brain rhetorically.

**A/N2- I loves you guys sooo much and I would loves you even more if you left me a review. Next update coming soon! (as soon as I write it.)**


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt turned suddenly and pressed his hands over my nose. They were wet with a bitter smelling liquid. I tried to back away, but he pulled me by the back of my head. Struggling wasn't an option, and I was getting weaker by the second. Droplets dripped down my face, and, all of a sudden, I was just so tired. What the fuck? Was he giving me liquefied roofies or something?

"My fingers are doused in sleep aid," Kurt explained softly. "Sleep, Blaine."

That sounded like a good idea. I could lie down and sleep forever. In Kurt's arms. No, wait, he was a meanie. I tried to squirm away, but he kept his hand over my face. Managing to free one arm, I reached up and punched him in the face, my knuckles still throbbing from the beating I gave the Sybilin. My fingers met bone and satisfaction flooded me. "Damn it," Kurt growled, holding me tighter. Under different circumstances, I would have been rejoicing. "That fucking _hurt._"

"Lemme go," I slurred sleepily. I could feel my own struggles getting weaker.

"Blaine, this is for your own good. I'm not going to hurt you. Stop fighting it." He sounded so sure, so convincing. I wanted to surrender to the alluring darkness that blurred the edges of my vision.

I was going to pass out, I knew it. But I fought it, like I'd fought the Sybilins. I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to... sleep.

"How is he still fighting?" I distantly heard Finn ask from the opposite end of the dark tunnel of slumber I was falling in.

"I don't know," Kurt responded, wonder lacing his voice.

That was the last thing I remembered before passing out.

...

When I woke up, I was sitting in a hard, uncomfortable chair. That was all I could tell about my surroundings because I was blindfolded with a black-out hood and my wrists were laserbanded together behind my back. The laserband handcuffs would cut to the bone if I attempted to pull them off.

There was also a warm body slumped against mine.

"The hell...?" I trailed off, confused. It couldn't be Finn. Finn hated me and acted twice my age, despite us both being 17. And Kurt was probably still pissed off at me for punching him in the face. "Who is this?"

The body shifted, sitting up straighter. "Oh, sorry." A masculine voice sounded, startling me. "I fell asleep. Didn't mean to lean on you."

"Who are you?" I asked. When did he get here? How long had it been since the fight? Did my parents know what had happened to me?

"I'm Noah Puckerman, call me Puck."

"I'm Blaine Anderson." I responded.

"Nice to meet you, even if we have just been kidnapped." He snorted dryly.

"So you're blindfolded too?"

"Laserbands and all."

Suddenly, I jolted to the left, sliding into someone different. My wrists were jolted a bit, activating the laserbands and cutting slightly into me painfully. "We're in a car?" I exclaimed. "Sorry. Didn't know."

"Hey! I was trying to sleep and forget where I was headed!" A slightly shrill, girlish voice practically screamed in my ear. "Get off of me, you pervert!"

"Chill! I'm really sorry and not in any kind of way attempting to perv on you, trust me." I reassured the girl.

"A likely story, Blaine Anderson." She said angrily.

"If you were asleep, how do you know his name?" Puck asked smoothly.

"I-I-I wasn't sleeping." She admitted softly. "I'm Rachel Berry."

"Nice to meet you." I said politely.

"But not see you. Where are we going?"

"I'd tell you, but I can see your not going to make it in." Puck mocked her. "And you were perving on her, Anderson. Admit it, you want some Berry ass."

"What? Of course not!" I sputtered indigently.

"Why not? Is my voice that unattractive?" She demanded.

"Your voice is lovely. I just don't like girls as much as guys." I explained.

"Figures. All the good ones are gay." She sighed.

"Shut up, Berry. No one wants to hear you talk." Puck snarked.

Oh, great. I was stuck in a van, blindfolded, with a stud-boy and a talkative, snobby girl. This was shaping up to be one of the worst days of my life, and I was thirsty again. "Who's driving?" I inquired.

"Hell if I know." Puck grunted in annoyance. "I was just outside, minding my own business and kicking some nerd's ass when I got blindfolded and shoved in a van. I've been in here for God knows how long; it's been at least a 6 hours. I fell asleep so I'm not sure anymore."

"Well, I have no idea why I am here. I was simply practicing for the community musical, and when I went to take a water break, I was forcefully kidnapped." Her tone turned snobbish.

"What kind of stupid play do you need a water break for?" Puck asked scornfully.

"For your information, it was a fight scene, which I was exceptional in. the director told me I was one of the best fighters he'd ever seen, and that was a great compliment seeing as he helped run a junior karate class." Her voice was like sticking your hand in the bottom of a cooler to grab the last water bottle; _ice cold._ I flinched a bit, silently glad that no one could see me.

"I said it before and I'll say it again; shut up, Berry." Puck growled, although with less heat than before. Now he just sounded tired.

"You shut up, Puckerman." She snapped back.

"Both of you shut up!" I barked out, wishing I could reach up and rub at my temples. God, my head hurt. It was probably a side effect of that sleep drug that had practically been shoved up my nostrils and down my throat. Maybe it was chloroform. Did chloroform give you headaches? Or was that roofies? But roofies couldn't be in liquid form, right?

My rambling thought process was cut off as the van turned another sharp corned, this time causing me to crash into Puck, Rachel to tumble into me, and my wrists to strain against the lasercuffs. I hissed in pain as they dug in deeper than before, and a bit of blood trickled down my hands. "Ow."

"You'd think whoever was driving could be a bit more gentle on us," Rachel's shrill voice was even closer to my ear than before.

Suddenly, the entire van screeched to an abrupt halt. I flew blindly forward, the side of my face colliding painfully with what I assumed was a glass divider. _Fuck, _that was going to leave a bruise.

The door opened, and suddenly I could smell fresh air, pine cones, and, strangely enough, freshly baked bread. The thought of that made my stomach growl. I hadn't eaten since before the party last night and I wanted that bread in me _now._ Preferably with some syn-cheese and turkey sandwiched between the slices. Mmm... Did my stomach just growl?

"Did your stomach just growl?" asked a slightly familiar voice. Finn.

"I think it did," responded a sweet, soothing voice that I couldn't place. She had the kind of voice that could convince you to do anything. "We should start feeding these kids more often."

"I'm not a kid!" I said angrily, my short temper flaring.

"At my age, you all look like kids," the woman responded. I noted she had a slight lisp and wondered exactly how old she was. "I wonder if Emma can pull a file for you this quick. You're a lucky one, kid."

I didn't feel lucky. I felt bruised, tired, hungry, and a bit violated. Where was Kurt? More importantly, where the hell was I?

"This is bullshit. I didn't do anything wrong! I can't go back to juvie." Puck shouted from beside me.

"Oh, this place is much worse than juvie, Noah. And since you're so eager, why don't you go first?" Sweet Voice crooned with a bit of sarcasm marring her tone. I felt the warmth of his body beside mine fade as he was noisily hauled to his feet. I could hear his swears and stumbling fading and Sweet Voice spoke again. "Don't bother trying to leave, there are guards at the doors of the van. Armed guards." With that note, she left us.

Shit. I was seriously panicking. What if this wasn't AIR? What if I was being kidnapped? What had happened when I was knocked out?

I expected Rachel to start talking again, but she was silent. She was probably as terrified as me right now.

A few minutes passed, although it could have been hours and I wouldn't know the difference. I had no way to keep the time, to see, to move. But pretty soon, I could hear footsteps approaching the van again. This time, words weren't exchanged and I felt hands grab my upper arms and roughly pull me out. I didn't utter a noise as I was half-walked, half-dragged across first cement, then softer grass. The smell of baking bread got stronger and then disappeared altogether. I could tell we'd gone inside, because the air had become stagnant, like cleaner had been used to block out all hints of fragrance.

Suddenly, I was dumped upright into a chair without warning. Loose strands of my hair fell into my face and I blew them back.

"Welcome, Mr. Anderson," A deep voice said. "We're going to ask you some questions to help us decide. You will answer correctly, because we will know if you're lying."

"Help you decide what?" I asked, my voice cracking from disuse and fear.

"Deciding whether you live or die, of course."


	4. Chapter 4

"State your name," said the same voice just seconds after he had threatened my life. "You will answer each question truthfully. Don't lie. We already know the answers."

I couldn't breathe. My chest and throat had constricted to the point where no oxygen was able to get in or out. Forcing myself to swallow, I gulped in air as if my life depended on it, which it kind of does.

"State your name." The deep voice repeated. I heard a chair squeak and someone sighed.

They could have a gun to my head, and I would never know. Or a knife balanced over my head, ready to drop at any second. My chest tightened again.

"State. Your. Name. I won't ask again." Deep Voice was getting annoyed.

"B-Blaine Everett Anderson." I stammered out. _Just get it over with,_ I mentally chided myself.

"You are 18 years of age, is that correct?" Deep Voice went on.

"Yes." _Almost 19,_ I wanted to say. But I wasn't going to drag this out any longer that absolutely possible.

"Son of Florence and Benjamin Anderson?"

I clenched my teeth. "Yes."

"You're openly gay?" Another voice asked, and my head swiveled around. How many people were in here?

"Yes, I am." I sat up a bit straighter. "Is that a problem?" I added a spark of defiance to my voice, daring them.

They ignored it. "How long have you been out?" A different voice asked. I felt a jolt run through me. It was Kurt, it had to be. I'd recognize that high-pitched, 'I'm-better-than-you-because-I-am' tone anywhere.

"Since I was 16."

"And your parent's accepted it, just like that?" I could hear the smirk in his voice and gritted my teeth.

"If by accepted you mean went into drunken rages, attacked me, and disinherited me, then you are spot on." I spat out bitterly. Even after all this time, it still stung.

"And did that make you angry?" This was a different woman's voice.

"What are you, my shrink? Of course it made me mad."

"How else did you feel?"

"Worthless, okay? Like I didn't deserve their love." My voice cracked a bit and I tried to cover it with a cough. I didn't know who these people were, but I wasn't about to show any weakness in front of them.

"Hmm." They seemed to drop the subject, and for that, I was grateful. "Have you ever done drugs?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not that stupid." I responded truthfully. I heard soft snickers, but I honestly wasn't joking. I knew what that crap did to your brain, your independence. I'd seen it happen to some of my best friends.

"What about alcohol?"

"I've had a few drinks here and there, but never anything too serious. I know when to stop." Also, throwing up, alcohol poisoning, and massive hangovers? Not at all attractive.

"How do you feel about aliens?" Yet another voice asked. I wondered for the second time how many people were in here.

"Which ones?" I quirked an unseen eyebrow.

"All of them." He answered flatly.

"Lumping every alien species into one big group is like saying every human is the same. Some are peaceful. Some are absolute assholes that would kill you sooner than you look in their general direction. The same goes for aliens." I thought of the Sybilins with a small shudder.

"Are you afraid of pain?"

"What do you think?" I replied dryly.

"Well, let's see." I could hear papers rustling and shuffling. "In 9th grade, you broke and fractured 3 bones in a fight. Care to tell what happened?"

"I got jumped." I recalled, thinking of the day. I'd been walking to Algebra, minding my own business, when four jocks grabbed me and started beating the crap out of me. I'd fought back, Jeff and Erik had intervened, and all seven of us had been suspended. "It was stupid."

"In your sophomore year, you were attacked again." It was Kurt. He had a note of sympathy in his voice, and my chest tightened a bit.

"It was the same guys. My friend Erik and I went to the Sadie Hawkings' dance together, and they got us while we were waiting for our parents outside."

"Could you kill someone?"

I flexed my fingers, wishing I could stand and stretch already. "Provoked or not?"

"It doesn't matter. Could you?"

"Maybe. Probably." I exhaled deeply. "Who wants to know?"

"We'll be asking the questions here, thank you very much, Mr. Anderson." I bit back a snarky remark, not wanting to prolong this any further.

"I have a question." Came another voice. _Finn. _"Well, a situation, really. Say you were in a dark alley, with no weapons, and a group of Outers want nothing more to spill your blood all over the dirty pavement. What do you do?"

"Why don't any weapons?" I countered.

"You just don't."

"Not even my shoelaces?"

"No."

"Not even a rock from the ground?" I was stalling now.

"Not even that!"

"Are the Outers short or tall?"

"Tall."

"Are they armed?"

"Yes! Stop stalling."

But I wasn't stalling anymore. This was a trick question, because there was no way in hell I'd be in a dark alley with no weapons. But if I was... "I'd grab something from them, a piece of clothes, maybe. Or a chunk of hair. Then I'd run like hell." I shrugged. Cowardly? Yes. But my survival instinct overweighed my heroic one.

"I like him." Piped up the sweet-voiced woman. "He's smart, resourceful, and tenacious. And if it doesn't work, we can always kick him out."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Deep Voice sighed.

Suddenly, the blindfold was ripped from my head. Another jerk and my hands were free from the laserbands. I was able to reach up and scrub at my scabbed, raw wrists, with my shoulders protesting in pain. Several strands of curly, ungelled hair fell in my face and I blew them back, glancing up to dart my eyes around the unfamiliar room.

And gasp at what I saw.

I was sitting in a chair in a circular, sterile white room. There were no doors. In a semi-circle around me were three desks, and seated at the desks were people. People who, at this moment, had expressions on their faces that ranged from looking very hostile to welcoming.

On the far left there was a short-haired blonde woman with a distrusting frown on her face, who looked the polar opposite of the long-haired blonde woman beside her, who had a blissed out smile that made me wonder what drugs she was on. At the next table, on her left, sat Kurt. My heart skipped a beat when I spotted him, and I hoped it hadn't shown on my face. Next to him was who I assumed was Deep Voice, a tall, burly man wearing a baseball cap and Men In Black-esque sunglasses. Beside him was Finn, and I frowned, seeing him in the flesh again. My eyes floated over to the next desk, which held two men. One brunette and another blonde. Standing against the wall was a smiling redhead woman. A small, unhungry part of my brain noted that they were all extremely attractive in a unique way.

Taking in all these people, my head began to spin. This may have also been from the lack of food I hadn't consumed in the last... 12 hours, maybe? My sense of time was a bit screwed up after being knocked out and blindfolded. I had no idea what day it was, or even if it was day or night, seeing as there were no windows in this cell.

"Welcome to AIR training camp, Mr. Anderson. This is your home. For now, anyways." Deep Voice said.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt stood, strode in front of me, and offered his hand. I took it without a second thought, and he pulled me to my feet. "Follow me." He walked to a blank section of wall and it sprung open, forming a door/cutout thing. I'm pretty sure my jaw hit the ground.

"Close your mouth." Kurt snapped without turning around.

As soon as I passed through it, the door snapped shut again. We were in another circular room, although this one was larger and had much more color and comfort to it. There was a small fireplace, squishy armchairs, loveseats, and bean-bag chairs scattered around, along with mini-fridges and microwaves. It almost reminded me of the Common Rooms in Harry Potter. I collapsed into the nearest loveseat and dropped my head into my hands.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." Kurt said sympathetically, sitting next to me and crossing his legs. "You'll stay here, on campus, with other trainees and instructors. Do you have any questions?"

_Um, yeah. _"Why was I blindfolded the entire time?" I blurted out.

Kurt was unfazed. "It was for your protection and ours. If you'd seen anything and we decided not to let you in, memory wipes failing, you would know where base is. And then we'd have to kill you."

"Oh." My voice was unnaturally calm for me to have been so terrified of the beautiful man in front of me. The beautiful man who could probably kill me with his bare hands and make it look like an accident. "Alright then."

He smirked at me. "Anything else?"

"Will I be able to see my parents and friends?"

"No." He didn't say it harshly or warmly. It just was a statement of fact. Sensing my unhappiness, Kurt squeezed my shoulder, making my heart stutter in a way I was sure wasn't healthy at all. "You'll make new friends, I promise."

"Who were all those people?" I wondered aloud.

"Your instructors. You'll have classes in Alien Anatomy, Breaking and Entering, and Weapons."

"What do you teach?"

"Hand-to-hand Combat." He brushed a strand of hair out of my face and my breath caught in my throat. Our eyes locked, and his hand froze for a moment before jerking away.

After an awkward pause, I decided to ask another question. "Who exactly were all those people? Specifically, I mean."

Kurt seemed grateful for the change of subject. "The man on your far right was Bryan. He teaches Weapon Basics with a side of crushing your dearest hopes and dreams." I gaped at him and he shrugged. "He's bitter that he aced his weapons marks with flying colors, but failed all his other classes. He never became a real agent, and he resents it. The man on his right was Will, ever the optimist. He teaches Alien Anatomy 101 and Foreign Language. And the redhead in the corner was Emma. At the other table, to your left, would be Sue Sylvester. She teaches Memory Skills and Breaking and Entering. The woman next to her-"

"The other blonde who looked like she was on drugs?" I interjected.

"Yes, Holly. She's a recruiter." Kurt smiled. "We call her Siren."

That fit. She had a sweet voice that I suspected could convince men to do almost anything. "Who was the man in the middle? With the sunglasses?"

Kurt's smiled faded. "That's Boss. He basically runs things around here. If you get out of line, he's the one you have to answer to."

"What does Finn teach?" I inquired.

"Finn doesn't teach anything yet. He's still training. Granted, he has secured a teaching position for next year, but until he graduates, nothing is absolutely promised."

My brow furrowed in confusion. "But why was he-"

I was cut off by the door sliding open again. Sue waltzed in followed by a muscular boy with a Mohawk. Kurt stood and I quickly followed suit. "Hello, Porcelain. Your father wants to see you."

"His father?" I thought out loud.

Sue glanced at me and smiled. Or rather, bared her teeth in the horrid semblance of a smile. "Not that it's any of you business, Gel Helmet, but yes. It's Boss. The Top Brass, the Big Cheese."

My mouth dropped open for the second time that day. Kurt's impossible eyes darted toward me for half a second before he strode out of the room, another door popping out of the wall like magic.

The mohawked boy looked uneasily around the room, his eyes stopping to rest on me. "Noah, meet Blaine. Blaine, meet Noah. You two play nicely. I'll be right back." Sue said before striding out of another door.

"Nice to _see_ you." Noah said gruffly, and I realized it was Puck from the van.

"You too. I thought your name was Puck...?" This was confusing and I was still hungry.

"It is. Noah Puckerman. I just go by 'Puck'," He responded. I shrugged and walked over to one of the mini-fridges and peered inside, before deciding on a Ham & Cheese Hot Pocket. If we weren't supposed to take the food, they should have warned me. "That was the freakiest interview _ever. _They knew stuff my mom doesn't even know about me."

"Are you going to stay in the program?" I asked, my eyes still on the revolving Hot Pocket.

"Hell yeah! Where else can I get paid to kick ass and take names? This was always my dream job. I just never knew how to put in an application." Puck smirked and flexed his (mildly impressive) guns. "Are you?"

"I think so." It was nowhere near my dream job, but after seeing and fighting those Sybilins, I thought twice. I wanted to protect people from them. I wanted to impress my parents, though rationally I knew they would never care. And I wanted to keep seeing Kurt.

The microwave beeped, pulling me from my thoughts. I retrieved my Hot Pocket and took a large bite, hissing when it burned my tongue. "_Ow. _Fu- That's _fucking_ hot." No wonder they called the Hot Pockets. I glared at the molten cheese oozing from the breading like lava.

"I wonder of that Rachel chick got in." Puck twisted his mouth in distaste, but I could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"She didn't sound like much of a fighter," I commented, but it came out more like, "Sthe didn sthound lie muh oth a fither." due in large part to my crispy-fried tongue.

Fortunately, Puck seemed to understand burnt-tongue speak. "Well, we didn't get to see her. She might have been a 400 pound monster chick with a really annoying voice."

We fell into a comfortable silence in which I ate my cooler Hot Pocket and Puck paced the room. After another five minutes, the wall sprung open yet again and Sue walked back in. "Follow me." With that, she crossed the room and opened another door. Puck and I scurried to our feet and scrambled after her.

**A/N- Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! Annnnd here's some more Klaine sexual tension! You're welcome. **

**Reviews are always welcome and happily accepted. But no one's forcing you. **

**Kurt: I will personally hold my Pyre-Gun to the head of any and all who don't review. Detonation crystals included.**

**Me: Okaaay... so maybe he's forcing you. But don't let that put you off!**

**Kurt: I have it set on Flames of Hell, people.**

**Me: Maybe you should review if you don't want to be burnt to a crisp. Like Blaine's tongue, but worse. **

**Kurt: I'm watching you. And somebody get Blaine some ice, goddamnit. He needs that tongue to do other things with me.**

**Me: ...**

**Kurt: Did I say that out loud? Oops. (Walks away whistling.) **


	6. Chapter 6

"This corridor is restricted; you will not be allowed to set foot in here without a registered instructor or agent. The floor has taken your measurements the second you stepped on it; your weight, height, shoe size, and retinal ID. If you do happen to wander in, the computers have logged exactly how much of an electrical shock will stun you without killing." Sue spoke rapidly as she led Puck and I down a sterile white hallway. We turned a corner, only to be faced by a blank wall. I'd learned quickly that what seemed like a dead end here was probably a door.

As Sue placed her hand on a slightly raised section of wall in the shape of a box, the door slid open and I smirked as I was proven right. _Score one for me_, I thought to myself.

Through the door was... another sterile white hallway, but much longer. _Was this just a maze?_ It was all looking the same. Glancing down the corridor, I took it back. This hallway had raised boxes with numbers above them every 5 feet or so. I couldn't see any doors, but I figured they were there.

"This hall is boys' dorms, and where you'll be staying until you graduate, or, more likely, get kicked out. The Commons are at the end of the hall. You can socialize, fist-bump, do whatever it is boys do when they're around each other." Sue continued.

Puck moved his fist up and down his chest, imitating a guy jacking off. "I see that, boy." Sue said sharply without turning around. Puck's mouth fell open and he dropped his hand.

Sue led us down the hallway, stopping about three-quarters down in front of Room 360. "Put your hand on the box." She commanded. I did so timidly, feeling a scan go quickly over my hand. I blinked in surprise. "It's warm."

A few seconds later, it stopped. "Scan complete." A computerized voice stated. "Welcome, Blaine." I stepped back, but the door didn't slide open.

"Now you." Sue gestured to Puck. He followed a similar process to mine, and the door slid open. "This is your room. Wardrobes have your uniform, standard white top and pants. No horseplay, and I suggest you find a way to increase security. Some of the boys have mastered Breaking and Entering already."

"We're going to be taught how to break into people's houses?" Puck asked, looking awestruck. He stepped in the room and I followed without paying it any attention.

"Of course you are. Not all of your enemies will surrender peacefully. They will fight. They will hide. And it's up to you to seek out and destroy." Sue replied easily. She didn't look very physically threatening, but she did look like she could kill you in cold blood without a second thought. I shivered at the thought. "Study the rules, study the map, get to know each other, and go to bed. You'll have classes early in the morning." With that, Sue spun on her heel and strolled away.

The door slid shut and I turned around to survey the room. It was perfectly square and sterile white, just like the rest of the campus. What was it with these people and the color white? Did they just want everything to be clean?

There were two loft beds with desks underneath, each one home to a small laptop, lamp, and cushy chair. Dressers stood in the corners and there was a surprisingly visible door on the far wall, which I suspected led to the bathroom. Puck seemed to have disappeared, but looking around, he was sitting on top of the left bed.

"You don't mind that I claimed this bed, do you, bro?" He asked, peering over the side.

"No, it's okay." I tilted my head up and smiled at him. "I'll just get first shower in the morning, okay?"

"Fine by me. It's a dry shower anyway." He replied and I let out a disappointed sigh. I hated dry enzyme showers, which had not water, but an instant cleaning spray that took less than 10 seconds to use. They were a bit redundant and I preferred old-fashioned showers. Also, the spray stung if it got into your eyes.

I found a small pamphlet on top of my laptop, titled 'The Trainee Manual' and picked it up. It was only about four or five pages long, so I threw it onto my bed and climbed up.

**Page One of the AIR Trainee Manual**

_**A Message from the Boss**_

**So, here you are. In the big leagues. You are probably here as the rest of world has deemed you too dangerous, too violent, too troublemaking for them. This means you are perfect for this camp. Will it be easy? No. 50% of new trainees just like you go home the first week. 75% go home before graduation, memories wiped. And you could very well be one of them. You will be expected to train and study hard. This is a life-threatening profession. There will be so much asked of you, but first, you have to ask yourself- Do I want this? Is it worth it? **

**If you answered no to either of those questions, I suggest you leave right now. AIR has no place for the weak minded or bodied. That will get you killed very quickly, and so will over-confidence. There is no such thing as perfection. No matter how good you are, no matter how much natural talent you have, you can always get better. Pride cometh before a fall.**

**And remember, my eyes are everywhere.**

**-Boss**

**Page Two**

_**The Rules of AIR**_

**Rule #1- No alcohol or drugs of any kind. This includes- Onadyn in all its incarnations: Snow Angels, Breathless, Flyers, and Nose Candy. No marijuana, cocaine, crack, heroin, The White Pony, Meth, Ecstasy, Opium, or any other upper, dower, puffs, injections, or any drug that will impair your judgment in any way. If you get sick, go to the clinic here. Do not self medicate.**

**Rule #2- Relationships with an instructor are strictly prohibited. Yes, you are legally an adult, but in this profession, distraction will cost you your life.**

**Rule #3- Boys should not attempt to visit the girls' dorm, and girls should not attempt to visit the boys' dorm. **

**Rule #4- Do not attempt to leave campus for any reason without an instructor or registered agent.**

**Rule #5- Do not be late for any classes.**

**Failure to follow rules will result in immediate removal from the program.**

**Page Three**

**The map (or rather, maze.) Included were a training arena, a cafeteria, several classrooms, all the common rooms, a depressingly large collection of restricted areas, and a black, underground area of something called "The Cage."**

**Page Four**

_**Things to Do In Your Spare Time**_

**Spar. Keep your reflexes sharp!**

**Exercise. **

**Study your notes! A sharp body is only as good as a sharp mind to go with it.**

**Practice your aim. There is **_**always**_** room for improvement and no such thing as perfection.**

I groaned and rolled over on the bed. Those were the things they wanted us to do in our spare time? "Lights out," I muttered. The dim lights cut off immediately, throwing the room into pitch black darkness. I sighed. This was a lot to take in. I'd never imagined becoming an AIR agent. Whenever I pictured my future, it had involved moving to New York, performing, maybe getting a degree in law from NYU.

But I now that I was here, I was finding that I wouldn't trade it for the world.

It was around midnight, according to the digital clock flashing on the far end of the ceiling. Puck and I had talked for a while before his brain crashed into sleep. He wasn't actually the stereotypical jock once you got to know him. He was a bit dirty-minded, yes, but he was actually a nice person. He'd talked about his little sister and his mom, and it was clear he would do anything for them. He didn't even care that I was gay. All he'd said was "More chicks for me."

My mind began to wander, and before I knew it, I was falling into a deep sleep.

_I woke up in a room similar to where I had gone after the interrogation. This one had a bed instead of armchairs and the fire was going strong in the fireplace, providing the only light._

_There was also the small fact that Kurt sat coquettishly on in the middle of the bed, smirking and beckoning to me with a crooked finger. "Come to bed, Blaine. I'm cold." This was understandable, seeing as he was wearing nothing more than a pair of tight black boxer-briefs that left nothing to the imagination. _

_I gulped audibly, my feet moving toward the bed automatically to kneel in front of him, our mouths drawing closer and closer together until-_

The lights flickered on suddenly and a computerized voice sounded loudly around the room. "Noah Puckerman and Blaine Anderson, rise and prepare for orientation in room 710. You have ten minutes."

I sat straight up, panting hard, and glanced down to see an embarrassment tenting in my pants. I sighed and flopped back down on the pillows. Glancing at the clock, it was 3 AM. "Why the hell do they want us up so early?" I groaned. _They interrupted my dream before it could get to the good part, _I inwardly seethed.

"I don't know, but you called first shower, dude," Puck yawned out. He was sitting up and stretching.

"Ugh. You can help yourself. I'll find room 710 on the maze- I mean map." I grabbed the manual from under the pillow and flipped to page three, trying to locate the tiny classroom.

"Um, Blaine?"

"Yes?" I said, scanning the map. Crap, it was four hallways down.

"I don't think I can get down," Puck admitted sheepishly. I glanced across the room at the mohawked boy, who just shrugged in response.

"It's only about seven feet high, Puck. The ladder is right there." I climbed out of my loft easily and went to grab my clothes. The shower only took about 15 seconds, and that includes the time I had to get undressed. What I needed was a cold shower. A very cold shower. I dressed quickly, brushed my teeth, and left the bathroom in less than two minutes. Puck was still in bed, peering over the side. "Just put one leg over the side and use the bar for leverage. If we're late, we get kicked out."

"What?" He sounded horrified, then an expression of determination came across his face. He followed my instructions, hopped off the last step, and practically ran into the bathroom. I spent the next minute and a half running in place to get my blood pumping, seeing as they provided no coffee machine in our room.

When Puck emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his eyes, we had six minutes left. "We'd better run."

And run we did. Out of our door, into the halls, we found other trainees dashing to their respective classes. We jogged as quickly as we could to room 710, but once we got there, panting and legs burning, we were greeted by none other than Sue.

"You're late." She stated flatly.

"No... we're not," I gasped out between breaths. "It's 3:10 exactly."

"If someone is 10 seconds late, they are... what?"

"Late." Puck and I muttered angrily.

"I told you to study the map." She breezed past us, pacing. "It is your first day, so I'll give you a break. Drop."

We dropped to the floor immediately.

"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll go easy on you. 30 push-ups, 30 sit-ups, and 30 knee-bends." Sue said with a happy edge to her voice.

"Are you serious?" Puck blurted out.

"Make that 50." She raised an eyebrow. "Do you have anything else to say?"

The words _Oh, god no _and _help me_ came to mind. But I pushed myself through it without audible complaint. By the end of it all, I was a shaking, sweating mess. Puck breezed through it like he did this everyday.

"Welcome to orientation." Sue said. She gestured to the desks at the front of the room, and we scurried to sit. "These will be the hardest years of your life, if you make it through them. And I'm not here to go easy on you. You will fight. You will kill. You will see teammates die in front of you. Will it make you stronger? Depends on if you survive. You might die, we won't lie to you. Whether it's worth it or not is your choice. If you want to leave, just tell me now."

Neither one of us spoke. A screen scrolled down in the front of the classroom, and images flashed on it. Blood, fighting, and death seemed to be the theme, as it was field-fighting agents.

"Think you can handle this?" Sue asked as her onscreen self strode up to a huge, unidentifiable alien and slit its throat. It tumbled to the ground, dead, just like that. One second it was alive, the next it wasn't. I heard Puck emit a small gasp from beside me, but the killing images on screen didn't bother me to much. My stomach turned a bit to know I'd be taking lives, but it wasn't like they'd be innocent. AIR had been formed to protect humans from predatory aliens guilty of crimes by the Human-Alien Alliance Law.

So, yeah, I could handle it.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N- Guys. **_**Guys.**_** I am infinitely sorry that it took me so long to do this. What with starting high school, homework, writer's block, getting a new computer, lack of free time… The list goes on and no matter how many excuses I provide you with, it won't show you how sorry I am that this took so long. If anyone is still here, please give me your feedback on this. I've been taking a Creative Writing class to try to improve, so… thoughts?**

"Follow me," Sue said in a clipped tone as she strode out of the door. Puck and I stumbled over our own feet in an attempt to get out of our chairs and to the door in a matter of seconds. We trailed behind the imposing woman to a door two hallways down. Sue scanned her palm and the door clicked open softly. We peered around her to see a classroom half-full of girls and boys around our age, and the curly haired man Kurt had previously identified as Will.

"Hello, William. I thought I detected your unmaskable hair product. Here are your two new trainees, as promised, and I suppose they're ready for you." Sue said crisply.

"Thank you, Sue. I can take it from here," he responded just as frostily. I glanced around the room uneasily, getting the feeling that there was some bad blood between the two.

"You do that, William." Sue spun on her heel and marched stiffly out of the door without another word. Puck started toward the desks, hoping to slide in unnoticed, but Will stopped him. "Face the wall, Noah." Scowling, he did so. I attempted to step nonchalantly past the pair, but failed. "You too, Blaine."

I paused, but didn't turn. Was this a test not to let our guard down in unfamiliar surroundings? If it was, I didn't want to fail. I had no idea what to expect from this place that was expected to be my home for the next few months.

"Turn. Around." Clearly, he wasn't used to being disobeyed. Clenching my jaw, I turned on my heel swiftly.

"Good." Will seemed satisfied. I could hear him pacing behind us slowly.

"Blaine, I want you to tell me everything you remember about the people in this room."

Oh. Crap. "I… I wasn't paying attention."

"You must have seen something when you came into the room." He stopped pacing.

I squeezed my eyes shut, but I was drawing a blank. I usually prided myself on being observative, but under pressure, it was different. "There's a bunch of people, girls and boys both. They're all wearing white uniforms, just like me."

"What else?" Will pressed.

I took a deep breath. "There are four rows of people. There are eight people in all, two boys and six girls." I paused, thinking.

"What do they look like?" Will resumed his pacing.

"There's a blonde girl in front, with short hair. There's another blonde girl behind her, but with longer hair. Behind her is… she has long, black hair… she's… she has cat ears… She's a Liashin." Liashin were a species of humanoid, cat-like, and relatively peaceful aliens that were protected under the Human-Alien Alliance Act. It struck me as odd that one was here, in an alien fighting camp.

"Keep going." Will prompted.

"…In the next row, a brunette, Jewish girl… and an Asian girl behind her." Another feature stuck out in my memory. "She had blue streaks in her hair. There's another Asian boy sitting next to her… and a Black girl too. There's another boy… with glasses? He has brown hair."

"Are you sure?"

_No. _"Yes." I said with bravado.

"Good. A bit slow, but very good." Will patted me semi-harshly on the shoulder and I winced. The man didn't know his own strength. "Now Puck. You've had a while to think about it. Tell me about the room itself."

"Erm…There's a projection screen in the front of the room, just like in the other classroom. The floor is made out of silver tiles… and the walls are painted white."

"You can see the floor tiles now. That doesn't count."

"There are… four rows of desks, and a bigger, teacher's desk in front of the projection screen."

"How many desks?"

"I don't know." Puck sounded slightly frustrated.

"Yes you do. Think." Will commanded. I crossed my fingers, hoping he wouldn't mess up.

He shrugged. "Twenty?"

"Wrong. Turn around and count them. If those desks had been aliens, you'd be dead."

He turned and counted. "Twenty-one! I was close!"

"Close is not good enough. Close will not keep you alive. Close will send you to an early grave. Sit down." Will commanded. Puck and I scurried to our seats like good, frightened little mice. I opted for a seat up front, next to the Jewish girl, while my roommate chose a seat in the back, beside the Liashin girl.

"From now on, whenever you enter unfamiliar surroundings, you will memorize every detail. Every single one. A single detail can save or end your life, remember that." Will said, striding up to the front of the room. "Welcome to Alien Anatomy 101. This," he gestured around the room, "is your team. They are your partners, your backup, and your support. So I want you to take a few minutes and get to know each other before I start the lesson."

The girl on my right turned to me, smiling brightly, and stuck out her hand. "Hi! I'm Rachel Berry!"

I took her hand gingerly and shook it. "Nice to finally _see_ you, Rachel," I smiled back.

"Oh! So you're Blaine…?" Her head tilted curiously as she let go of my hand.

"Yes, ma'am," I grinned cheekily.

"You're much cuter than I thought…" She trailed off, and I blushed, beginning to remind her. She shook her head, giggling. "No, no, I know you're gay. I'm not trying to come on to you, I swear."

"Berry, will you shut up?" The dark-skinned Liashin called from the back row. "Even without enhanced hearing, you're annoying."

"I don't have to answer to a _Liashin,_" Rachel spat spitefully. "You're probably in the last 100 of your race anyway. Pretty soon, we won't have to even look at you."

I was stunned. "Rachel! Don't be so rude."

"Why not? She hates me."

The blonde on her left snorted softly. "Get used to it. Man-Hands here is the human embodiment of rudeness and annoyance."

"Regardless, you all are a team." Will said calmly, making the pair flush red. "You will work with all sorts of people during your time as an agent. Learn to like them. Learn to work with them."

"But she's an alien!" Rachel blurted. "I thought this was a camp for us to learn how to_ fight_ aliens, not _work_ with them." I heard a low, growling hiss from the back row, and turned to see the Liashin's hair standing on end, with the blonde in front of her looking worried.

"She's non-predatory. If you can't deal with it, you're free to leave." Will gestured to the door, and I raised an eyebrow. They would just let us walk out? But Rachel didn't move, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," She whispered feebly. I heard another low growl from the back, and a muttered "You better be."

"Good. Now that this is settled, I want all of you to stand up and introduce yourselves." Will walked back to the front of the room and sat cross-legged on the silver teacher's desk.

The sarcastic blonde girl next to Rachel stood first. "I'm Quinn, and I'm here because my mother knows a guy. She wants me to do what she never could."

The blonde behind her was next. "I'm Brittany and the unicorn led me here by accident." We all gave her a strange look, not being able to tell if she was serious or not, but she looked it.

Finally the Liashin behind her stood, a smirk on her whiskered face. Tail flicking agitatedly, she spoke. "My name is Santana, and I'm here because I like kicking ass and taking names." I raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. "Especially from those who like to refer to me as anything other than my _name_." Her ear twitched angrily and her eyes narrowed in on the brunette beside me. Santana's furry parts were striped dark brown tabby, and she looked pretty human besides the ears, tail, whiskers, and elongated pupils. I'd heard rumors that some of the Liashin could walk through solid objects, but I had no idea if Santana could or not.

Rachel stood primly, smoothing her shirt down. "I'm Rachel, and I…" She trailed off, looking lost. "I'm not really sure why I'm here."

The Asian girl behind Rachel stuttered out her name. "I-I'm T-T-Tina," she glanced around and I noticed a blue trident tattoo on her left cheek.

When it was Puck's turn, he stood, stretched, and smirked. "The name's Puck." He winked at Quinn, who rolled her eyes at him, in no way enchanted by his 'charm'.

Then the pendulum fell on me. "Um, hi, everyone." I smiled nervously. "I'm Blaine, and I was dragged here kicking and screaming." That got a laugh out of almost everyone, but I was serious.

We all turned to the Asian boy behind me, who reluctantly stood. "Hi… I'm Mike, and I'm here because my dad wanted me to be." Quinn sighed sympathetically.

"I'm Mercedes, and I'm here because I kick ass." The black girl behind Mike proclaimed confidently.

Finally, there was the bespeckled boy. He waved. "Hi, I'm Artie, and I would stand up if I could…" He gestured to his wheelchair. Everything I thought I knew about AIR was beginning to seem contradictory. Liashin agents? Paraplegics? It didn't make any bloody sense.

"Alright, now that everyone knows the names and is all settled, let's start the lesson." Will hit a button on his remote and the projection screen slid out behind him. "If you'll look on your desks, you'll see a box." I glanced down to see a slightly raised rectangle attached to the surface of my desk. "Place your hands on it." We did so, and a few gasps resounded as a hologram screen and keyboard appeared. "Take notes. They'll be printed in your room as you type."

Brittany raised her hand. "What if you spell something wrong?"

"Correct it later. There is no backspace key." Will stood and grimly smiled at us. "You might be wondering why you're all up so early. Most crimes, human or alien, occur at night. These will be your prime working hours, learn to love the night. You'll be up earlier than this, so get used to it." He clicked the remote and a picture of a beautiful female Arcadian popped up. "This," Will gestured to the screen "Is an Arcadian."

We all began to type furiously as Will lectured us on what distinguished Arcadians from humans, (pale skin, white hair, violet eyes, and increased height), the location of their airways, their dependency on Onadyn for purely deoxygenating purposes, and their occasional psychic abilities, such as pyrokenisis, mind reading, and telekinesis. My fingers began to cramp from typing so much in a short amount of time.

Will finally ended the lecture, letting the projection screen snap back up. "You'll all be heading down to the cage with Kurt. Get on the lift and go to the bottom floor. I'll see you all later."

The cage? Bottom floor? _Kurt?_

This was going to be good.

All ten of us trainee's piled onto the lift, and I pressed the button for LL36, or lower level 36. I was momentarily stunned that there were 36 lower levels and only two upper levels, but thinking about it, I guessed that AIR headquarters would have to be underground.

"So… has anyone else been in the cage before?" I spoke up after a few seconds. A chorus of 'no's sounded through the lift.

"I've seen him though. Yummy." Mercedes spoke up. I glanced at her in disbelief. Did this girl have any semblance of a gaydar?

"I heard Blaine here fought with him," Quinn said slyly. Exclamations of "Really?" and "Wow!" were heard briefly.

"It's no big deal," I blushed, ducking my head.

"It's a huge deal!" Puck clapped me on the shoulder. "You're an asskicker extraordinaire. I'm proud of you."

Suddenly, the lift shuddered to a halt on LL36. The doors opened to reveal…

Blackness.

A lot of it.


	8. Chapter 8

I'm not joking in the least when I say I couldn't see two feet in front of my face. There was absolutely no light source besides the dim fluorescence coming behind us out of the elevator.

"Should we, um, get out…?" Mike asked timidly.

"This might be a test. And if it is, I know better than to go into unfamiliar surroundings unarmed. I'm not stupid." Santana piped up, her whiskers twitching irritatedly.

"Maybe that's the perfect way to fail." I sighed, looking around. "Who's with me?" Tina, Mike, Artie and Quinn nodded in agreement. I stepped one foot out of the lift cautiously, testing the ground beneath it. It seemed solid, so, clutching the frame of the lift, I took a few more baby steps. Quinn and Mercedes followed suit, as did the rest of the team, with one exception.

Santana hung back, still looking suspicious. "I'm not getting kicked out if we fail this test because _you _wanted to go in blind, hobbit." She sneered.

"C'mon, Santana," Brittany said softly. "We're a team." The Liashin wavered visibly at that, and reluctantly followed us.

"I thought cats could see in the dark," Puck snickered.

Santana hissed, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on end. "I'm _Liashin_, boy, not a cat. Say that one more time and I'll rip your tongue out."

Puck didn't respond, but I got the feeling he was thinking something perverted.

"Besides, just because I can see in the dark doesn't mean I'm going to walk straight into a trap."

We proceeded to walk cautiously in the complete blackness until suddenly a voice rang out strongly.

"Stop."

I recognized that voice, but couldn't quite place who it belonged to. The team halted suddenly, and there were quiet complaints as the back half bumped into each other from the sudden command. The lights snapped on from overhead, surprising me and making annoying white spots blink in front of my eyes. Once my eyes cleared, I could see we were in a large room that must have stretched on for miles, because I couldn't see the other walls. There was a small platform that looked almost like a boxing ring without the ropes before us. Standing in the center of that, looking absolutely delicious in black skinny jeans with black combat boots, fingerless syn-leather gloves, and a white short-sleeved button up, was none other than Kurt Hummel.

I nearly started drooling.

"Wanky," I heard Santana whisper. I rolled my eyes. Did none of these girls have a gaydar?

"Alright, newbies." His eyes narrowed, surveying our group with distaste. "Jog in place." Kurt stated flatly as the lights dimmed to nothingness yet again.

Exclamations of "What?" and "Are you kidding me?" were heard around the room.

"If you don't like it, get out." Kurt said calmly, quirking an eyebrow.

Groaning and grunting, we pushed into action, bumping onto each other as we found a rhythm. I screamed mentally as my muscles burned with effort, still tired from that morning's workout. Wasn't that enough? I could almost feel the smirk on Kurt's face as we sweated and toiled beneath him. He paced the platform, arms crossed and hair coiffed, and looking down on us.

"Notice how the floor is cold and bare? I'm sure you did, just coming from a lesson with Will. There are rocks here, to mimic real life-and-death combat situations. I won't go easy on you because what you'll be fighting won't go easy on you." Kurt remarked, still pacing. "There won't always be carpet in the real world. There won't be padded mats."

After what felt like hours, but was probably only 10 minutes or less, he called out. "Stop."

I did so gladly, almost collapsing to my knees in relief and exhaustion. The lights once again returned to full brightness, and I bit back yet another groan or swear as spots blinked again in front of my just-adjusted eyes.

"My name is Kurt, and this is Hand-To-Hand Combat. I'll be your instructor." His eyes swept over our team again. "How many of you have ever been in a fight?"

A few of us, a little more than half, raised our hands, including me. The fight with the Sybilins had been the first 'violent altercation' I'd ever been involved in, but seeing as I'd probably killed a few of them, it counted. To me, at least, it did.

"Good. It won't be your last, and those who haven't better learn. Good thing is, you're in the right place." Kurt clapped his hands once, grinning. "I understand you just had a lesson on Arcadians." A few of us nodded, transfixed by his presence and the way he commanded the room with just one look and a few words. It was intoxicating. "Well, now that you know their anatomy, use that knowledge. If I were an Arcadian, what would be the best three places to strike me?"

An overeager Rachel raised her hand, and Kurt pointed to her. "Their main airway is located in their stomach, so their stomach would be good because you'd knock the wind out of them."

"Very good. Anyone else?"

I tentatively raised my hand. "Their most receptive pain censors are in their legs and feet, so you could pinch their thighs and stomp their feet."

"Excellent, Blaine." He gave me a small smile, his strangely beautiful eyes growing warm, settling on a light blue and flickering over my face for a moment, before changing back to their usual storm flurry of colours. "Would you come up for a demonstration?"

I'm sure that my face resembled a tomato at that point, but I forced myself to nod. I probably didn't have a choice anyways, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I stepped onto the platform. "Face the team, Blaine." His voice was like honey in my ear. I felt him move behind me and place his hands around my neck. I shivered, trying to focus on breathing and not the way his impossibly soft fingers caressed my throat, the way his body pressed flush against mine. Surveying my team, their expressions ranged from trying to hold in laughter to smirks and waggling eyebrows to a touch of fear.

Kurt's hands tightened, not painfully, but enough to make it a bit difficult to draw in air, and I was having problems with that already. "W-what are you doing?" I stammered.

"If an Arcadian grabbed you from behind like this, how would you break free?" He asked, tightening his hands a bit more. Puck raised his hand, smirking. "You could kick it in the balls."

"That's good, but he may distance his body from yours to prevent that. Any other suggestions for Blaine?"

"Couldn't you scream for help?" questioned Brittany.

Good idea. I opened my mouth but Kurt stopped me, laughing lightly. "Not yet."

"Wouldn't screaming draw the attention of civilians and get them killed?" Brittany wondered aloud.

"Sometimes, that's a good thing. A civilian could cause a distraction, therefore letting you get away." Kurt tightened his grip a bit more, jolting me back to reality. "Break free, Blaine."

I began to feel a bit lightheaded, gasping for air. "I d-don't want to hurt you."

"It's fine. Just break free."

"It's fine. Just break free."

"I don't know if I can," I made myself sound helpless and scared. "You're hurting me."

His grip loosened a bit. "You can do it, Blaine. You just have to-"

I moved quickly. Spinning on my heel, I turned and slugged Kurt in the nose. His grip loosened even more, and I took the opportunity to pinch his thigh.

Draw blood? My pleasure. I stomped on his foot and he howled in pain. I pushed him in the chest, where Arcadians' airway was located, and he stumbled backwards, breathing hard. A trickle of blood dripped from his nose, and for a moment, all was still.

Then the clapping started.  
>Slow, but it gradually grew into an applause that made my ears warm. Kurt wiped the blood from his nose with a tissue from his pocket and smiled.<p>

"Good job. If I was giving grades today, you'd get an A for kicking my ass."

I ducked my head felt my cheeks grow warm with his praise, and the applause of my team. Kurt tipped my chin up to face him, smiling. "Hey, it's fine." A dark, worried look crossed his face and my heart stuttered. "Was that your first time being choked?"

I let out a small sigh. "No, but I'm a musician. I'm kind of used to holding my breath."

I heard snickers behind me, a whispered, "I bet that's not the only breath-holding he was doing."

Ignoring that, I stared up into Kurt's eyes, the color changing and glowing even as I held his gaze, still slightly out of breath. I wasn't sure if it was the after-effects of the fight or just the breathtaking effects of Kurt being so close in proximity to my face, his hand resting on my forearm…

_Wait, when did that happen? _I bit my lip, the tension in the room thick enough to be cut with a knife. The catcalls had fallen silent, much to my dismay. I swallowed hard, my eyes still locked with Kurt's, which had finally settled down into a certain colour, a deep, almost electric blue. I could have sworn I saw something that looked almost like lightning strike through his irises and pupils. His gaze broke mine first, flickering to a far wall, then back to mine, and I could see his eyes had turned dark, steel grey with flecks of green. Kurt's hand dropped from my arm like it was poisoned. My skin warmed where it'd been resting there, like he'd burned me, and he turned away, striding back into the ring.

"Get back in line."

I stared at his back, my mind still trying to process what had just happened. What _had_ just happened? I wasn't sure.

"Don't make me tell you twice. Get your ass back in line, Anderson." He growled out, still not looking at me.

I bit back an angry retort to that, spun on my heel, and exited the ring, falling in line between Puck and Mike.

"_What the hell was that?"_ Puck mouthed to me.

"_I don't know."_ I mouthed back, crossing my arms.

"Y_ou hot for teacher?"_ He made an obscene thrusting gesture to which I grimaced.

"_No. Drop it." _ I shook my head infinitesimally as a motion for him to just drop it.

Of course, he didn't. "_Well, he's hot for you."_

I said nothing else, just turned and stared stiffly, attempting to ignore Puck's dirty hand gestures beside me and my teams' questioning looks.

Kurt turned back to us, his eyes stormy with colour again, and continued with the lesson. He would show us a move and then have us copy it on the floor. He would kick high in the air, and then swoop down in a wide half circle to dodge the counter-strike that was sure to come. We kicked and ducked, kicked and ducked, over and over, for about an hour. I couldn't really keep track of the time, and I lost myself in the punches, the kicking, the dodging, and the sparring. We could have been in there for a few days and I would never have noticed. With every punch and kick, I imagined it was a Sybilin attacking Erik, attacking Kurt, attacking Puck, attacking my team. And then I punched harder. I kicked harder. I ducked faster. I sparred better than the last time.

Finally, Kurt called everything to a halt. I almost dropped to the ground before remembering that it highly resembled a back alley sidewalk, gravel included, so I settled for bending over, hands on my knees, sweat pouring down my face, panting. My team looked to be in similar condition as me, with the exception of Santana, who barely looked winded and hadn't broken a sweat yet.

"Well, you did decent. You just might not be killed if we were invaded within the week." Kurt commented dryly, but his eyes had settled on a sky blue and he was faintly smiling.

"Are you hungry?" There was a chorus of 'oh god yes' and 'food? I love food!' Kurt smiled. "Well, you've earned breakfast. Go on up to LL23, that's the cafeteria level. You'll see what to do from there."

Sighs of relief filled the air, mine included. We headed for the elevator in the distance, but I didn't start walking until glancing over my shoulder to see Kurt staring at me intensely, his eyes settled into a green-grey-blue steely combination. I shivered, turning away, and jogged to catch up with Santana, who'd linked pinkies with Brittany.

"Hey… Santana… wait up…" I panted out. She slowed down a bit, and I smiled at her. "How are you not tired?"

"Liashin endurance, kid." She smirked at me. "I've been running ten miles a day since I was four years old. This is a cakewalk. I am, however, hungry as hell, so let's go." With her free hand, Santana grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the lift. I allowed myself to be pulled along, looking over my shoulder again to see that Kurt had gone.

**A.N- It's been months, I know. I'm sorry. I'm **_**sorry**_**. Thanks to my beta, Delilah, for being awesome on short notice. Send her love. She's amazing. Tell me what you thought, if anyone's stile here? Thank you. **


	9. Chapter 9

When the elevator _ding_ed to a halt and the doors slid open, I saw what had to be one of the biggest industrialized cafeterias in the New World. The weird thing was, I couldn't see any servers. Just more trainees.

Great. I hated being the new kid. At least I wasn't alone; I glanced over my shoulder and saw Tina, the girl with the blue streaks and trident tattoo, looking blanched and frightened. She was chewing on her thumbnail and taking quick, short breaths like she was about to have a panic attack. I took a few steps back and put my hand on her arm. "Are you okay?" I asked.

Tina quickly jerked away. "P-please don't touch me." She stuttered, brown eyes darting around like a caged animal. "I j-just don't like b-being around so many p-p-people."

I held up my hands in surrender. "Okay." The rest of the team was heading over to the line for breakfast, which was moving quickly. I started after them, Tina trailing slowly behind me.

When I reached the front of the line, I could see there were nothing more than a hand-scanner and a small chute on top of the counter. I placed my hands on the scanner and a box shot out of the chute. I grabbed the box and followed Quinn to the half-empty table where our team sat. Pulling out a chair, I sat and opened my box, which was about the size of child's shoebox, and stared at my breakfast. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten a full meal. Could it really have been almost two days ago? I was running on adrenaline and vapors.

And, _god,_ did that smell good.

My breakfast contained fresh baked syn-wheat bread, still warm from the oven, scrambled egg whites with cheese, lean sausages, syn-fruit salad, a carton of milk, and syn-orange juice. I attempted not to shovel it all down my throat like a wild animal, and instead placed my eggs on my bread, topping it off with some fruit salad and taking a slightly larger than polite bite, then a smaller bite of sausage.

"My god, this is amazing," hummed Puck in approval.

"I know. I thought I was going to die after all of that exercise," agreed Mercedes heartily.

"So what are you all in here for?" asked Santana, swallowing a sip of milk.

"I'm only forced to assume that it was my natural fighting skills and fierce acting that led AIR to believe I was perfect to be an agent, therefore they abducted me in such a manner that I had no choice but to comply with their wishes of my career path." Rachel spewed off, causing everyone to cock their heads in confusion.

"My mother wanted me to come, so here I am. I think she's dating one of the people in change, they pulled some strings, and now I'm here, completely against my will." Mercedes snorted, a bitter scowl on her face. "It's not like I wanted to decide my own future or anything."

"Well, I was just fighting this dude on my football team in the locker room for dissing my Mohawk, and the next thing I know, I'm being shoved in a van with Berry and Blaine here." Puck grunted, unconsciously flexing.

"I'm not sure how I got here. I was just following my unicorn around and suddenly, I was here." Brittany stared off into space, her voice a barely audible lilt. The team stared at her with furrowed brows.

It turned out Mike had hotwired a police car, Quinn was arrested for successfully fighting off a gang single-handedly when they'd tried to jump her, and Artie had broken a bully's hand and nose without trying when they had tried to flush his glasses down the toilet. Tina didn't speak.

"I got arrested for kicking an Eli Rollises' ass." Santana said proudly. Seeing everyone's confused looks, she elaborated, whiskers twitching in amusement. "They're huge, like two musclemen fused together, and they don't have noses. I think they breathe through their ears or something. They're really stupid, strong, mean, and good at taking orders. Most people use them as bodyguards. Anyways, it was about the size of a car, just as heavy, and tall as a house. I brought it down in less than five minutes."

"Wow." I raised my eyebrows. "Impressive."

"So what'd you do, hobbit? Run someone over with your car?" Santana smirked at me.

I recounted the events of the party, the screams, the terror. And the Sybilins.

"Sybil-what?" Mike asked.

Quinn blinked in surprise. "Sybilin. S-Y-B-I-L-I-N-S. I thought those were just a myth."

"Trust me, they're very much real." I shuddered at the memory.

"So, what's up with Sue and Will? They looked like they wanted to murder each other." Santana asked, done with her meal and fiddling with her hair.

"I can tell you that," Mercedes stage-whispered, waving everyone in. "I heard from my mom that when Will was a student here, and a girl on his team who he was in love with gave away the location of the headquarters. Sue killed her. Ever since then, they've hated each other."

Our next class turned out to be Weapons 101. And our instructor was Bryan, just as Kurt had told me. He was terrifying in the ease with which he handled the weapons, holding each one up, telling us what it did, and demonstrating its use ecstatically on the far wall or the practice dummy. He had spears, throwing knives, butterfly knifes, switchblades, axes, tridents, harpoons, tazers, maces, machetes, guns, throwing stars, grenades, bows and arrows, and more things I couldn't name if my life depended on it. If Bryan asked me with the weapon in his hands, it probably would. He showed us how to conceal and remove blades in our boots and shirtsleeves without hurting ourselves.

After the lecture, he took us to the ranges. There were a row of stalls, each one with a waist high, or in my case, mid-chest, counter. On each counter was a pyre-gun, three throwing stars, and a heat seeking mini-grenade. After everyone had been assigned a stall, Bryan told us to each pick up a pyre-gun. I did so, gingerly. I'd never held a gun before. It was frightening to see the ease with which Puck, Santana, and Artie handled them. It was small and weighed less than a syn-apple, with a bumpy, iridescent handle.

"This gun has four settings. Stun, hot, hotter, and flames of hell." Bryan explained, twisting the black knob on the side to change the settings. "Hot will fry your opponent to a crisp, but they might live to tell the tale. Hotter melts flesh, bones, and muscles, but they may survive depending on where you hit them. Flames of hell will burn your target and whatever it's standing next to into ash." He grinned and fired the gun at the near wall. It smoked and blackened.

"That wall is made out of a steel resistant to tempetures up to ten thousand degrees, and yet it blackened. Think of what it would do to a living organism."

One wrong move and I would kill one of my teammates. One wrong move and they would fry me. I was dead. I was so dead.

"Now, I've taken the detonation crystals out of these, so they will only shoot a harmless beam of light. You won't have to worry about frying each other… yet." I relaxed at that, as did several members of my team. I wouldn't have to worry about killing anyone, or them killing me. Not yet, at least.

"Stun will only work on aliens. Repeat it."

We glanced at each other. What was with all the repeating? We weren't in preschool.

"Repeat it."

"Stun will only work on aliens." We sighed.

"Not humans." Bryan set down the pyre-gun.

"Not humans." We repeated monotonously.

Bryan smiled. "Now, I want you to aim at the far target at the end of your range."

In shaky hands, I aimed my pyre-gun at the target, which I noted was shaped vaguely like a Sybilin.

"Pull the trigger."

I did, and was surprised to feel and see something solid fly out of the barrel without making a sound. I smiled when I saw a small mark on the shoulder of my target. I'd been aiming for the head, but it was better than nothing.

"I think there's something wrong with mine," Brittany said, pointing it toward her eye. "There was no light, and it didn't make a sound."

Bryan leapt over and whisked it out of her hands. "That was a dart; I lied about the light to relax you. Darts can still poke your eye out and we won't be rushing you to surgery."

"Now, try aiming and firing in one fluid motion." Bryan instructed. We did so, and I was disappointed to see I'd missed.

"Again."

We fired. I missed.

"Again."

We fired and I hit the target, this time in the stomach.

Bryan frowned. "Keep aiming and firing until you run out of darts, which won't be anytime soon. There are 100 of those suckers in that clip."

"100? No way." Quinn said, examining the clip. "It couldn't hold 100 darts."

"They expand upon release." Bryan sighed. "Open your minds. Nothing is impossible here."

"Except for stunning humans with a pyre-gun." I muttered.

"I heard that." Bryan said, but he didn't sound angry, just amused. "Get to work."

So I aimed and fired, aimed and fired, and aimed and fired more. I hit my target more times than not, but I wasn't the first to consistently hit exactly what I was aiming for. First Santana, then Artie, then me. I kept going until there were no more bullets. Looking around, I saw the only person who hadn't hit her target was Tina. She looked frustrated, darts strewn about a strange, slimy alien-holograph.

Bryan clapped his hands. "That's all for today, kids. Head on up to your rooms or the commons until your next class." I started for the elevator, but Bryan grabbed my arm, holding me back. "Not you. Emma wants to see you in her office."

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, shocked. It was only my first day. Were they going to kick me out for being attracted to Kurt? Could they read my mind?

"No, she's… a doctor. You're not in trouble. Room 2709. Go on." He pushed me toward the elevator. I stumbled into it, feeling my exhaustion hit me like a sledgehammer. Before the doors closed, I wondered what my parents were doing, where they thought I was, and if they were worried.

* * *

><p><strong>A.N. Thank you so much for all the reviews! They keep me inspired and updating. So does caffeine, but that's another story.<strong> **More Klaine sexual tension is to come soon, within the next chapter at least. A kiss? Maybe. This was more of a filler. We'll get more on Blaine's background and relationships in chapter ten, as well as a party and the introduction of a few more characters. Tell me what you think! I've already started on the next chapter. **


	10. Chapter 10

Emma's office was nice, if not a little over-orderly. When I came in, she was scrubbing at her desk with a toothbrush. She told me to sit on the couch and relax.

"Am I in trouble?" I blurted out.

"Trouble? No, no, you're fine. You're absolutely fine." Emma said, smoothing her skirt over her thighs. She was very pretty, I noted, but not in a way that jumped out at you. It was more subtle, what with her freckles, sweet face, soothing voice, and demure demeanor. "So, um, how are you feeling? You know, about camp, about life…"

"Camp is fine. What kind of doctor are you?" I asked, eyeing the glass of water she'd set down in front of me.

"A psychiatrist. Answer the question, Blaine. And drink your water." Emma said firmly.

"I'm not thirsty." Actually, my throat was beginning to resemble a desert, but I didn't trust this woman. She was pretty and nice and all, but something seemed… off. After all that I'd been taught today, I knew better than to take water from a stranger, even someone who worked here.

"Drink it." She said firmly, though not unkindly, and I felt strangely compelled to do so. I picked up the glass and drained it. "Happy?" I asked, setting the crystal tumbler back down on the coffee table with a faint _clink._ It tasted a bit off, like lemons, almost, but I put that out of my mind.

"How do you like your team so far?" She replied, ignoring my question.

"They're fine. They seem nice." I said automatically.

"Even Santana and Puck?" Emma crossed her ankles to the side.

"Yes," I said, smiling. A warm sensation gripped my chest, my vision blurred, and my breathing sped up a bit. "Something… something's wrong with me."

"You're fine. Take deep breaths. You're just tired from working so hard today." I took a few deep breaths and my vision returned to normal, the warmth in my chest disappearing. "See? You're fine."

"Okay." I relaxed into the couch. "Why am I here, again?"

"Everyone's going to have sessions with me, you're the second. It's in alphabetical order, so Artie came in yesterday." Emma tucked a piece of red hair behind her ear, smiling so that dimples popped out on her cheeks.

"So… what are we talking about?" I shifted slightly, wondering if she would bring up Kurt. God, I hoped she didn't bring up Kurt. There were no pillows on this couch.

"Well, let's talk about your classes. I noticed you were doing especially well in Hand To Hand Combat, want to talk about that? How do you like the teacher?"

Fuck. I felt my cheeks grow warm and I looked down. "He's really nice." I understated vastly, biting my lip.

"You fought with him, didn't you? The first night, when you were in the woods. He brought you here." She said, smiling innocently.

"Yes." I bit my lip. "He saved my life."

"Were you scared?"

"Terrified," I admitted, staring at my hands folded on my lap. "I was fighting for my life against thing's I'd never seen before. I thought aliens were peaceful. And then they were trying to kill me and my friends."

"Do you miss your friends?"

"To be honest, I haven't thought about it." The corners of my mouth twitched downward. "They were okay, right? No one died?"

"A few of them ended up in the hospital, on what they believe to be an Onadyn overdose. They'll be fine in a few days, but yes, no one died." Emma tilted her head carefully. "Why?"

"I don't want anyone else to die for me." Immediately after I said it, I wanted to slap myself.

"Anyone else?" Emma leaned forward, interested. She raised an eyebrow. "Have people died for you?

_No._ "Yes." I blurted out. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Do you mind telling me who it was?" She asked, her voice soft yet compelling.

"My older brother." My eyes welled up with tears. "His name was Casey."

"What happened to him?"

I swallowed thickly. "My mother happened. My real mother. And it was my fault."

"_Mom, just let him get the bowtie," Casey hissed, his hazel eyes narrowing. He put it back in the cart. I stood the next aisle over, peeking from behind a pile stacked high with Nerf guns and extra dart packs._

"_It's pink." She snarled back, throwing it on the ground. I flinched when the package hit the linoleum with a loud clatter. My thumb automatically rose to my mouth, a reflex of seeking comfort. _

"_It's just a bowtie, Mom. What's wrong with that? Blaine's five, he likes what he likes. I think he'd look cute in it," My brother replied, crossing his lanky arms. He was going red, his freckles disappearing under the onslaught of blood rushing to his face. It was funny how these details come back to me now, when I want to forget them most. I could remember exactly how his light brown curls scattered across his face when she hit him. I remembered how his voice raised to an unbearable pitch when she'd picked up the aluminum bat and began beating him, the same voice that cracked off into a series of tormenting wails when security finally pulled her off, with her still shouting obscenities about how he was just as much of a fag as I was, how we were both going to burn in hell, how neither of us could be her children, normal little boys didn't act like this!_

_It was too late._

"Casey died in the hospital four days later." I said quietly, my eyes boring patterns into the silver-tiled floor. "Our mother was found guilty by plead of insanity, got locked up in some mental institution halfway across the globe, and I went to live with my father and stepmom." I let out a short, bitter laugh. "It wasn't much better."

"Was that the first incident with your mother?" She asked, recrossing her ankles.

"No, but it was definitely the most memorable." I replied. "She would fly off into these rages about how she never got the daughter she'd always wanted, if she had a little girl everything would be perfect again, stuff like that. She'd start screaming if Casey left the toilet seat up. But if I did anything remotely feminine, she'd get even worse, saying any son was better than a gay son."

"And you really think Casey's death was your fault?" Emma quirked an eyebrow, her hands folded in her lap.

"Of course it was." I looked up sharply. "If I hadn't wanted that god-awful bowtie, none of this would have happened. Casey would still be alive."

"Blaine." She said, her tone commanding me to look at her. Softer, "It's not your fault."

"That's what everyone says," I muttered, looking back down.

"Because it's true. Blaine, your mother was clinically insane."

"Schizophrenic," I recalled. "She had a severe case of Schizophrenia. That's what the court told us."

"Tell me about your father." Emma said, sitting back in her seat.

I would have been glad for the change in subject if this one wasn't almost as bad as the last. "When I came out, he shunned me. He didn't yell much. Just ignored me. I did some stupid things, trying to get his attention, but it didn't work."

"And how'd you feel about that?"

"I don't know." The words forced themselves from my mouth. _Lie. Lie. Lie._

Emma narrowed her eyes. "You're lying. Tell the truth."

"Fine. I was upset, okay? I acted like a whore and he would even look at me! I hated him but I still loved him and I just wanted my dad to pay attention to me!" I shouted, my hands balling into fists. "Is that what you wanted to know? How miserable and angry I was? Are you happy now?"

"Actually, yes." Emma looked unfazed by my outburst, her posture unchanging. "Anger is good, Blaine."

"Aren't we supposed to let go of our anger?" I mumbled, muscles slowly unclenching.

"Only after you've dealt with it. If an agent has a breakdown in the field, he and his team will suffer the consequences. I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen." Emma stood, gesturing for me to do the same. Then, unexpectedly, she engulfed me in a hug. I stiffened, then relaxed when I realized she wasn't going to hurt me, and hugged her back. It had been so long since I'd been properly hugged, I'd forgotten what it felt like. Before I knew it, I was crying. No, not just crying, I was sobbing my eyes out. Emma just held me.

I wasn't sure how long it was until I stopped, but it seemed like forever. "I'm sorry," I sniffed.

"No, no, it's fine. You need to let it out, okay?" Emma smiled and handed me a tissue. "I'm afraid that our time for today is up, Blaine. You can go on to your next class now, room 2304."

"Okay." I started to head to the door, but she stopped me.

"Before you go, drink this." She handed me a cup of blue-tinted liquid, which I stared at quizzically. "The water I gave you before had a truth serum in it. This will cancel out the effects so you don't go blabbing any secrets to the rest of your team."

I drained the cup in one gulp and handed it back. Emma hugged me again and kissed my forehead. "You're a good kid, Blaine."

A few days passed, falling into a routine. I was no longer half-coherent at 3 AM, my body adjusted to their sleep schedule. My muscles stopped screaming in protest with every move I made. I learned a few things about my teammates, like the fact that Quinn excelled at hand To Hand Combat and Alien Anatomy, but was a poor shot in the ranges, or that Mike mastered Breaking and Entering within minutes, but would blank out in called on in Memory Skills. Brittany didn't seem to have a weakness, besides her random declarations. Tina was still a mystery to us, for despite our best efforts to get her to speak, she wouldn't. The only time we head her voice stuttering out an answer was if she was called on in class.

I was learning, that was a definite. We took a graduation exam, which I passed with flying colours. The ceremony, which consisted of Sue passing out diplomas at the end of class with a disgruntled frown and a barked out 'Congratulations, Curly,' was not what I expected, but was nonetheless satisfying.

Puck and I had worked out a system for mornings. He would get the bathroom for 5 minutes, then I'd get it for five minutes, and we spent the next five jogging in place before heading to class. He was a good roommate, never overstepping his bounds, and a great sparring partner.

As for my everyday classes, I had Memory Skills, Alien Anatomy 101, Hand To Hand Combat, Weapon Basics, Foreign Language, Breaking and Entering, and Torture and Interrogation. Weapons was one of my favorites, there was always satisfaction in throwing a star and hearing the satisfying 'thunk' of meeting your target head on, or watching your paper alien crumble into ash. Torture wasn't easy for me, although Santana seemed to take some kind of relish in it. Sue taught that class, as well as Memory Skills, which Artie, Mike, and Quinn seemed especially proficient in and I did alright.

Needless to say, Hand to Hand was both my best and most difficult class. It was the best because I was a great fighter. It was the worst because it was the longest and most brutal class we had. And it was both because of Kurt.

He'd saunter in, looking at everyone but me, and proceed to demonstrate new moves, touching everyone but me. It was frustrating, and quite frankly, a bit rude. Even when acknowledging me, he'd stare past me, his mouth set in a semi-permanent half-scowl. No matter what I did, he wouldn't look me in the eye. It didn't stop him from being the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen.

It was just so damn _frustrating._

On Fridays, there was a camp mixer, held in the Rec Room with refreshments, pool tables, and a DJ. My team had mixed reactions to the news.

"A mixer? Will there be booze?" Puck asked excitedly.

"No." Will snapped sharply. "Haven't you read your manual? No alcohol or drugs are allowed on campus."

"So what are we supposed to do, sit around and play bridge?" Santana sneered, rolling her eyes. "I'm not down with that."

"San, c'mon. It'll be fun." Brittany voice, leaning her head on the Liashin's shoulder. All we knew about Brit so far was that she'd come from a broken home and had taken to drugs, specifically Onadyn, before she'd come here. She roomed with Santana and they seemed to have a special connection none of us were aware of.

Once we got to the mixer, it didn't seem half as lame as Will had made it out to be. Strobe lights flashed and music pulsed deeply through the core of the room, making me quiver. There were couches strewn along the sides of the room for wallflowers and couples. A long table on the far end held plates piled high with sandwiches, cheese, crackers, fruit, and vegetables. A bowl the size of a small fountain held punch with Sue standing guard over it, presumably preventing spikes.

A collective breath seemed to be let out of my team.

"Thank god. I thought this thing was going to blow." Santana said, smirking.

Tina stormed off with a small sigh, presumably to a dark corner to spend the rest of her night alone, as usual. Mike rushed after her without a word.

"God, what is up with her?" Santana's whiskers twitched in annoyance. "You'd think Mike was trying to tap that, with the way he waits on her."

It was true. Mike was the only member of the team who continuously tried to get Tina to open up and talk, and he'd succeeded more than we had, earning an occasional small smile or blush from the girl.

"I know," Mercedes said, looking unhappy. "It's kind of personal, but I think since we're her team, you should know too. A few months ago, she was swimming in a lake and a group of Lydians attacked and raped her." Seeing Rachel's confused glance, she added, "They're a kind of alien, not much is known about them, and they live in our oceans and lakes."

Quinn gasped softly. "Oh, that poor girl."

"Bryan found her and recruited her, hoping she could channel some of her anger into working here." Mercedes added.

I felt nauseous, not only to learn why Tina was so withdrawn, but also because I was invading her privacy without even knowing it. "I need some air. It's kind of stuffy in here." I managed to gasp out before turning towards the door and exiting, smacking straight into a pair of arms connected to a warm torso, holding me firmly around the shoulders while I regained my balance. I looked up into the solidly light blue eyes of Kurt Hummel.

My balance decided to fail me once more at that moment, my knees going weak. If not for Kurt's iron tight grip on my shoulders, I would have fallen.

"H-hi." I managed to stutter out.

"Hello." His voice, like an angels', was steady as the grip and the gaze rooting me to the spot.

"Were you going in?" I gestured vaguely to the door behind me.

"No, just… going for a walk," He sighed. "Care to join me?"

"S-sure." Kurt let go off my shoulders, but maintained a close distance as he led us down the hall, our arms brushing.

"How are your classes?" He asked, not simply trying to make conversation, but genuinely caring.

"They're good." I ducked my head, ears growing warm. I heard a chuckle from beside me.

"But I'm your favorite teacher, right?" Kurt smiled.

"You could be, if you actually looked at me." I let out a hard breath through my nose.

"Well, I'm looking at you now, aren't I?" And he was, quite intently, with his solid sky blue eyes, his hand grasping at my wrist, pulling me into an abandoned classroom with the lights off.

"What did you do to me, Blaine?" He whispered intently, thumb stroking over the delicate flesh inside my wrist. "Ever since that night in the woods, I can't stop thinking about you. It's like you've poisoned me."

Kurt Hummel couldn't stop thinking about me? I pushed that thought out of my mind and hissed back, "If anyone's mind has been poisoned, it's me." I thought of all the restless nights I'd had since I'd gotten here, one of which Puck had thrown his only pillow at me to shut up moaning in my sleep, then demanded it back. "We can't do this."

"I know. You'd get sent home with your memory wiped and I won't ever get to see you again." As an afterthought, he added, "And I'd get fired, but that's not the point."

"Is your dad the Boss, though?" I inquired, neither of our voices raising above a whisper.

"Yes, and guess who helped him make up the rules?" Kurt sounded agitated in the darkness. "I'm still kicking myself for that."

"Maybe we can pull this off, though." I was still hopeful.

"We can't." He whispered.

"We can try. I'm not giving up on you." I leaned toward him slowly, aching for the moment he would pull away. But it didn't come. And just like that, I was kissing him.

And he was kissing me back.

It wasn't the gentle, teasing kiss I'd been dreaming about. It was better, all breathy moans and hands sliding for a grip, on clothes, under clothes, lips being bitten and tongues exploring mouths. It was hot, and it was over far too soon.

"We can't. Not here. Not yet." Kurt panted out. "Boss will find out. He always does."

"I don't care. I want you," I insisted, breathing hard.

"Blaine, as much I want you, as much as I want this, we can't." Kurt replied. He sighed, pressing a thumb to his forehead. "Go back to the party. We can talk later."

"Okay." I whispered, but not before kissing him again, this time softer, less hurried. I left with unfilled longing in my eyes as I glanced back at Kurt, still breathing heavily, leaning on the door frame for support. The look he gave me made me shiver in anticipation of what was to come. But how were we going to pull this off?

**AN- I won't start rambling about how tired I am, but still: Wah. Sleep. Need more.**

**If you'd care to, follow me on tumblr for previews, side-stories, and extras of Red Handed, along with a bit of fangirling thrown in. My URL is taaberforth dot tumblr dot com.**


	11. Chapter 11

I walked back to the Rec Room in a daze, not believing what had happened. Kurt wanted me? It was too bizarre to comprehend right now, although I'd certainly been enjoying it without question when it happened.

I was too frazzled to go in, I realized once I'd gotten to the door. Puck and Santana were sure to interrogate me on my red face and semi-askew clothes, not to mention Mercedes, Quinn, and Brittany. Instead, I opted past the party, and headed to the shooting ranges to practice my least proficient weapon, the bow and arrow. For some reason, the only one on our team who wasn't struggling with that weapon was Tina, and of course, she hadn't been giving out any tips. Almost every time I tried to shoot, the bowstring would snap at my fingers, leaving me with bruises, and eventually, callouses.

I checked into the Range with a hand scan. It would keep tract of every weapon I took out. If they were not returned, I'd be held responsible. If I attempted to leave with something, alarms would go off and an instructor nearby would tackle me to the ground.

My own personal bow that I'd been issued was a simple recurved bow made of wood, sinew, and fiberglass with a silk and cotton blend string. I took it out, grabbed roughly two dozen arrows, and headed to the stalls, where, to my surprise, a petite girl was standing with her back to me, shooting arrow after arrow with flawless precision. It was like the bow was an extension of her arm.

Then I noticed the blue streaks in her hair.

"Tina?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to startle her, and walked up to her side slowly.

She lowered her bow from the hologram she'd been shooting at, a slimy alien with webbed feet, dotted with arrows in the head, in the heart, in the crotch. With a jolt, I remembered Mercedes' words. _"A few months ago, she was swimming in a lake and a group of Lydians attacked and raped her. They're a kind of alien, not much is known about them, and they live in our oceans and lakes."_

"What?" She asked, her stutter gone. She was breathing hard, three fingers on her right hand bright red from pulling her bowstring, and her forehead was creased in a frown.

"You're a great shot." I commented, dumping my arrows into a quiver beside a stall. I nocked an arrow, aimed carefully, and shot at my usual target, a Sybilin, and missed by a landslide. The arrow sailed over its shoulder and hit the floor with a clatter. This earned a small smile from Tina.

"And you're not." She replied, walking over to me. "Here, like this." She took an arrow, nocked it, and shot with fluid speed. It nailed the Sybilin in the eye, and I winced.

"You're going too fast." I observed, frowning.

"That's the point. You aim hard and you shoot fast. If you take all day aiming, your hands start to shake, you lose power in the bowstring, and the arrow doesn't fly straight." Tina demonstrated once more and told me to try.

I nocked an arrow, took a deep breath, and aimed, pulled, and fired in one fluid motion. It hit the Sybilin's stomach with a satisfying 'thwunk' and I grinned.

"Good job. Ten more."

"What?" I gaped at her. "Since when did you become my coach?"

"Do you want help or not?" With a sideways glance at me, she fired off three arrows in quick succession, hitting the throat, forehead, and heart of the holophoto. "Besides, I need help in Hand to Hand. Trade off?"

"I… okay."

We spent almost an hour just working on archery. Then we moved on to throwing stars, knives, spears, and axes. When it came to shooting a pyre-gun or crossbow, I was a natural. But actually throwing weapons needed work, and Tina was happy to help. She seemed more relaxed around the weapons, like she knew she was safe.

"Alright." She called me to a halt as I threw my last spear, an explosive-tipped trident that sunk deep into the neck of physical replica of an El Rollis. Then exploded.

"We're done here," Tina explained, heading for the door that connected the Range to the Cage, via a few staircases. We headed down.

"Where did you're stutter go?" I asked.

"I only stutter when I'm uncomfortable, or scared, or nervous." Tina pushed a lock of blue and black striped hair off her face, revealing her trident tattoo.

"I like your tattoo." I commented. "Why a trident, though? And why on your cheek?"

"Tridents are the mark of Poseidon, God of the Sea. As for why it's on my face…" Tina sighed. "Let's just say I wanted to make a statement. It reminds me of something I don't want to forget."

Poseidon. Sea. Lydians.

_Oh._

I decided to keep my mouth shut. I didn't want her to know what I knew. I already felt like I was invading her privacy enough.

We signed in to the arena base and opted for a ring near the middle of the room. As we situated ourselves, gearing up with hands wrapped and our shoes light enough for footwork to be incorporated into the practice session, Tina somehow set up a playlist to blast pounding music through the ring while we worked.

"Why no lyrics?" I asked as I climbed into the ring. "What is this?"

"It's dubstep. Haven't you ever heard of dubstep?" Tina responded, climbing in after me. "Some of it does, just not this song." Once we were completely in, the air around the edges thickened and then solidified, caging us in. Tina's smile faded.

"Okay, so you're going to want to stand like this," I demonstrated the proper stance. "And I want you to fight me."

"Just like that?" She adopted my stance, looking doubtful.

"Elbows down." I corrected her. "And fists at chin level."

"No more instruction than that, Mr. Hand to Hand?" She smirked, lowering her fists appropriately.

"If you make any major mistakes, I'll correct you. But the thing about fighting is there is no way to really do it wrong, unless you're studying a special fighting style, which we're not. You just have to practice." I explained. "So hit me with your best shot, ye with the power or Artemis. Pretend I'm a- pretend I'm something you really hate." I almost said Lydian before I remembered she didn't know that I knew.

"Who said you're not already?" Tina joked.

"That hurt." I clasped a hand to my chest, fake-wounded.

"We'll see what's about to hurt." Tina swiped a fist at my head, which I easily dodged.

"You're going to have to try harder than that, sweetheart." I grinned. I failed to mention that I'd been practicing fighting since I'd taken up a youth MMA league almost 7 years ago.

She lashed out another punch and then swept out a leg, hoping to trip me. I hopped to the left, avoiding both, and countered with a leg swipe of my own, unbalancing her still moving leg. Tina landed on the ground with a grunt, glaring up at me as she pulled herself up. We jumped right back in, me purely on defense and Tina landing a few bruising punches, but not enough to tire me out. When I called us to a halt, she was panting, sweat dripping off her forehead. Her blue-and-black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she grabbed the offered enhanced water from me, sucking in down in seconds.

"More." She demanded breathlessly.

"Are you sure?"

Her response was to aim a punch at my head.

I went to my room that night, exhausted. Tina had made a lot of progress, landing a punch on me about three times out of five. When I got in, the mixer was still going strong, so of course Puck wasn't in yet. Our curfew wasn't for another few hours, so I decided to study my notes. I kept reading until the words blurred together and my head drooped. The door banging open, then shut, startled me from my nap.

"Puck?" I glanced up, rubbing my eyes. Puck stormed in angrily, muttering something about how Quinn wouldn't let him get past first base.

I ignored his mumbling and headed to bed, asking the room very nicely to turn off the lights on my half of the room, throwing it into pitch darkness, a stark contrast from Puck's side. Before my mind shut down, I prayed for a dreamless sleep.

**AN- Is it time for bed yet? No? Okay.**


	12. Chapter 12

The next few months were like being caught in a hurricane. There were so many things being thrown at me, and I was barely keeping my head above water. But I was determined to make it out alive.

As time went on, team members were lost to the pressure of AIR, like Artie and Mercedes.Mercedes got caught saying something she shouldn't have, and Artie went home with a bad case of homesickness. And regular sickness.We were assigned more classes. And the teachers were harder on us.

"And exactly how many peanuts were in the can?" Sue barked out.

"I don't know!" cried Rachel. "You only gave me five seconds to look!"

"That's no excuse," Sue snarled, making everyone flinch. "500 pushups. Now."

I winced in sympathy as Rachel sighed and started her impromptu workout.

"No, you idiot, I said hit the _throat _of the Tekk, not the shoulder!" Bryan shouted, wrenching the Pyre-Gun from Mike's hands.

"I'm sorry," He looked down in shame.

Bryan dialed the gun to Hotter. "Now, hit it in the throat twenty times in a row, or you can complete the Playground."

Mike gulped. The Playground was a training center that would be part of our graduation test. It was an obstacle course set up to look like a child's playground, in which we had to rescue a civilian from an unknown predatory alien. If you passed it, you were almost guaranteed a spot as an Agent.

"No, thank you." He took back the Pyre-Gun and began to shoot.

"Everyone, take a stethoscope and a safe. You have five minutes to crack it."

"No, cut the red wire, you idiot! Are you trying to kill us all?"

"An Arcadian has six fingers on each hand, not seven. You'll be assigned a tutor if you keep this up! What's wrong with you?"

"I've told you already, you can kick me in the face! I don't bruise easily and I'm trained to do th- OW!"

"Cut into the jugular, not the esophagus! And not too deep; this is torture, not hurt briefly and then kill!"

Needless to say, my teachers were anything but gentle.

The mixers every Friday were one of the highlights of my week, besides Hand to Hand and the free time I spend sparring. Rachel usually spent the time dominating the karaoke machine, Santana in a corner with Brittany while Puck leered at them from a distance at the pool table, and Mike attempting to talk to Tina with a bit of progress. Quinn and I sometimes talked, or danced, Rachel would occasionally drag me up onstage for a duet, and Tina might request the time for me to show her some more moves in the ring.

One night, I left earlier than usual, heading to the bathroom, when I was sent sprawling by a running figure, running straight into me and knocking me into a wall.

"Ow," I sat up, gripping my throbbing shoulder.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry! Blaine, are you okay?" I glanced up to see Kurt hovering over me, his face creased with worry. My heart stuttered against my will.

"I'm fine." I took his offered hand and pulled myself up on my good arm, clenching my teeth.

"Let me see." He pulled up my sleeve to find a freshly forming bruise.

"I'm fine, Kurt. I've gotten worse in your class alone." I pulled down my sleeve and turned away.

"Well, that was on purpose," He said, smirking. He crossed his arms. "I'm sorry for running into you."

"Why were you running?" I countered.

"Endurance training. Why _weren't_ you running?" he stepped closer to me, just like he had when we'd talked in the common room after I'd finished my interview.

"Because I'm not a lunatic. Isn't there a training room for things like that?"

"After a while, you get tired of running in circles and chasing nothing."

"So, you decided to flag me down like a bat out of hell, then?" I took a step back and he followed.

"I wouldn't put it like that." He lilted teasingly. His fingers drifted over my forearm.

"Well, then, what would you call it?"

"An accident."

"Kurt…" I grabbed his arm and pulled him backward a few steps. "We can't."

"We weren't doing anything." Kurt hissed.

"You know just as well as me what we were doing." I whispered back. "We can't do this."

"I still can't stop thinking about you, you know."

I bit my lip. "Neither can I." I glanced down, and then back up into his sky blue eyes. "Why do your eyes change colours?"

"It's just something they do." He tilted his head back and sighed. "What are we doing, Blaine?"

"_We_ haven't done anything yet."

"Yet?" The word hung from his lips like a single drop of water, inviting me to lick them.

"I d-didn't mean-"

"So you want something to happen?"

My throat went dry. "Yes."

"Something like what?"

"I want to get to know you, Kurt." I pleaded. "I don't just want this to be another random hookup." I didn't say how my heart stuttered when I was anywhere near him, or how my dreams were nothing but a mess of _us_ now, a beautiful mess of us kissing and hugging and talking and simply _being_ together, and how I'd wake up in a mess of silent tears while the room was still dark. I didn't say any of that.

His eyes softened and morphed into more of a teal. "I do, too." He took my hand.

Suddenly, Finn appeared behind Kurt, looking like he'd been there all along. Kurt sighed without turning around, either seeing my eyes go wide or sensing his step-brother, and pulled his arm reluctantly from my grasp.

"What is it, Finn?" He asked, sounding like he already knew what was coming, and asking was just a formality.

"Boss wants to see both of you in his office, now." Finn turned on his heel and walked away. We followed silently.

"Sit down, both of you." Boss commanded once Finn had been dismissed. I sat. Kurt stood.

Boss looked just as striking as he had in my interview; the sunglasses, folded hands, and the way he commanded a room with a glance were all the same. I knew he was Kurt's father, but I couldn't see any resemblance besides the composure; whereas Kurt had perfectly coiffed brown hair, Boss was bald, where Kurt's stance was relaxed, Boss sat ram-rod straight.

"Do you two wanna tell me what's going on here?" Boss quirked an eyebrow over the top of his glasses.

We stayed silent, me looking down at my lap and Kurt inspecting his nail beds coolly. Boss sighed. "Nothing at all?"

"No, sir," I piped up. Kurt crossed his arms.

"We operate on a three strike basis, boys. This is your warning. I hope it won't happen again."

"Sure thing, Dad." Kurt glanced up through long lashes. "Is that all?"

"Yes. Now get the hell out of my office."

I went back to the mixer with a heavy heart. My first intimate encounter with Kurt in months and we'd forgotten to be careful. I would have gone to the corner to mope if I hadn't been stopped by a tall figure lurking before me.

"What do you want, Finn?" I asked in a tone similar to the one Kurt had used earlier.

"I want you to back off my little brother." He tried to sound menacing to no avail.

"From what I understand, he's older than you. Can I go now?"

"That doesn't mean anything." He sounded angry. "He's not even into you, you stupid little hobbit." A small crowd had begun to form around us and I suppressed a sigh. I should have gone with my first mind and headed straight back to my room. "Even if he did, you don't stand a chance. You think you're the only one he cares about? Do you really think he'll risk his job and his neck for a little boy like you?"

"The fact that I stopped growing before you did is really no reason for insult." His words stung like a slap in the face.

"Shut up, Blaine!" He really was getting angry.

"Or are you simply upset that fought off those Sybilins better than you that night? Even though I was just a short, untrained little boy partying in the woods?" I was fighting back now, the sting gone.

If he'd left me alone, nothing would have happened. We both would have walked away with a mild grudge and left it at that. But he stepped forward and swung at me.

I ducked and arm-swept his legs from underneath him, a move not unlike the one I'd tried on Tina in our first training session. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, but was up in another instant, swinging another punch at me with record speed. I didn't have time to dodge and his fist hit me like a sledgehammer. I was sure my nose was bleeding, but I didn't let up.

I countered with a series of violent punches that would make Kurt beam with pride, had this been class. Some of them landed, some didn't. Finn got the upper hand once more and I was purely on defense. He was aiming a wonderfully executed kick at my head when I was pushed to the side by a black-clad blur that I somehow knew was Kurt. Finn saw him too late but couldn't stop his foot.

Kurt caught it before it made impact with his head while I stared from the floor with amazement. Finn wobbled on one leg pitifully.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" He barked angrily, throwing down Finn's foot, which unbalanced and tipped over the giant boy. "Do you just want to be kicked out? Or are you really that stupid?"

"Kurt, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to stand by and let this happen!" Finn was on his feet again and shouting right back.

"Let what happen? For the last time, nothing is going on!" I stood up carefully and dusted myself off. Kurt hadn't even glanced my way since I'd fallen.

"Excuse me!" I spun on my heel to see Sue storming through the crowd. "You," She pointed to me. "You," She pointed to Finn. "And you!" She pointed to Kurt. "All of you, Boss' office, right now!"

I wanted to kick myself. I'd been so focused on staying away from Kurt, I'd completely overlooked the fact that fighting was against the rules. It hadn't been in the rulebook, but it was the basic rule of any instructional institution.

"It seems like this is déjà vu for a few of us." Boss leaned forward in his seat. "How… odd."

"Why am I here, Dad? I was only breaking up the fight." Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow.

"You also engaged in minor physical and verbal violence in a public setting. I expected better from both of you, and you, Blaine." I looked down at hands. "Would anyone care to tell me what happened this time?"

I bit my tongue, knowing he'd seen everything on the television monitors that covered the walls. Finn, however, piped up, "I provoked him, sir. And I swung first."

"Why?"

"I don't like the way he looks at Kurt."

"And what way would that be?" I growled, at the same time Kurt hissed, "I'm not a child, Finn."

"We've already discussed this in private, Finn, so your… interference will not be necessary. However, I'm sure that you're aware that fighting is against the rules." Finn nodded, looking sheepish. "All three of you, this is strike one." I gaped at him. "Finn and Blaine, you will serve dual detentions on Fridays during the mixer for six weeks."

"What?" Finn jumped out of his chair while I sat in shock, trying to process the information.

**A.N- Yeah. I don't know either. **

**If you'd like, you can follow me on Tumblr for Red Handed side-canon, fun facts, and news. My URL is taaberforth.**


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